


Intertwine

by Meruryan



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bodyswap, M/M, Swearing, With A Twist, post-canon AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-05-19
Packaged: 2019-10-02 10:47:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 22,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17262854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meruryan/pseuds/Meruryan
Summary: On a trip to Creta, Brigadier General Mustang runs into a spot of trouble. Luckily, he's accompanied by Major Elric, ready to serve and protect his commanding officer. Unluckily, things go pretty much to shit anyway. The two of them have to find their way to safety on their own, in a foreign country, battling an undefined enemy - while they're in the wrong bodies. Somehow, things only get worse from there.





	1. Snared

Roy woke up with the mother of all headaches and the distinct feeling that everything was somehow fundamentally wrong.

He thought about not opening his eyes on the basis that if nothing from this moment onward changed, nothing would also go wrong and even if it did, he could maybe avoid dealing with it. Unfortunately, while he was still imagining the faces people would make as he told them “I know I am a decorated Brigadier General and a responsible, grown man besides, but I really, really didn’t feel like getting up and dealing with anything,” he recalled that the events leading up to this moment had included Edward bursting in and tackling a Cretan alchemist straight into the large array he’d just activated. The one Roy had been laying in the middle of. Laying, on his back, with his hands tightly bound. Not, as he was now, sprawled on his front on top of something uncomfortable. His hands were distinctly unbound. Stings and aches from all over his body were crowding his head all at once, mixing up and creating a mess he had trouble sorting through. It was more than pain – a horrible confusion filled him. Like waking up somewhere you don’t remember falling asleep, except amplified. It should be fading as he gathered his bearings. It was not fading.

Regardless of the inexplicable sensations contributing to the pervasively hanging wrongness, there was a subordinate here whose well-being he was responsible for. Roy cracked an eye open just a sliver and croaked “Fullmetal?”

Immediately, he regretted not going with his original plan of waiting indefinitely to see if things would work out on their own, partly because his headache spiked with a vengeance, but also because his understanding of the world and its structure was tilting alarmingly. The voice that came from his mouth was not the one he’d had his whole life.

His eyes snapped open. He held his breath and took in the sight in front of him while holding very still. Some bright spots faded away to reveal the surface his head was resting on. It was fabric-covered and uneven. Beyond that on the chalk-covered floor was laying his left arm. Except that it wasn’t his. He had been wearing his night clothing, consisting of a short-sleeved shirt and loose pants, on account of the midnight abduction. This arm was in the official blue sleeve of a military uniform. The hand was also… wrong. Roy twitched a finger and saw it move. Fine. That’s fine. He could work with that.

Bracing his left elbow beneath him, Roy lifted himself enough to see what he was laying on. It was a dead body. Somehow, this was less harmful for his crumbling composure than the too-long hair that had fallen into his eyes as he’d shifted. His head had rested on the lower torso, while his right hand was… his… his right…

_How…_

Static filled his head as he stared at the hand which was made of steel and sported a familiar transmuted blade, sunk deep into the corpse’s chest and stained red with fresh blood.

Roy jerked upright, making a distressed sound – _with Edward’s voice_ – and the metallic arm followed him stiffly, jarring the shoulder – _Edward’s shoulder_ – causing the blade to slide out of the dead body. Roy stared, and focused on not hyperventilating for a moment. The- the arm- Roy’s- the… _focus, breathe, focus now,_ the automail had sunk deep between two ribs and the force of the tackle and fall combined had apparently caused it to rip violently sideways. The man couldn’t have lived long afterwards.

Roy turned to the bloodied, metallic appendage. Now, looking at it, Roy realized he could feel where his shoulder simply _stopped existing_ and became a steel construction. At the edge, there was something deep and constant, and the rest was simply… gone. The hand was a tight fist beneath the blade, and though Roy realized he was getting a sort of pressure feedback from it, telling him the palm and fingers were meeting resistance, it was faint and rudimentary – no variation, texture, or temperature. A void. A second one had replaced his left leg. Bile was rising in his throat.

Swallowing numbly, Roy tried to command the fist to unclench. His first attempt did nothing, but the second one made the hand relax, along with the rest of the arm, causing it to fall limp at his side. Giving it up for now to avoid the hysteria building in his mind, he focused instead on the left hand. It wasn’t shaped quite like he was used to – more graceful, but still solid and calloused. There was no large scar on the palm.

He was still staring at the hand, wondering if his- the whole body was trembling the same way it was, when he heard a deep voice nearby say “Musta- “, and then cut off midway. Whipping his head around in the voice’s direction left him looking at, apparently, himself.

Seeing his own body looking back at him was disconcerting to say the least. It was still bound to rings in the floor by its wrists and ankles. The head was craned to better stare at him with his own wide eyes, innumerable thoughts flickering across the familiar-yet-strange visage. Someone was clearly occupying his body while he himself was… not. Since he found himself in Edward’s flesh, did that mean they had switched? Except, Roy thought with a lurch of fear, the Cretan alchemist had still been alive and inside the array with them when it activated. But Ed was surely fine, because he was _Ed,_ and he _had to be…_

“Fullmetal?” Roy ventured, and the unmasked worry in his voice was there definitely only because he didn’t know how to properly control these damned new vocal chords. He searched the face in front of him and didn’t think about how much this was _not_ like looking in a mirror because he could freak out at some later date all he wanted as long as he didn’t do it _right now._ His face’s current owner had apparently worked through the shock and other assorted emotions and settled on something like annoyed determination.

“This is just goddamn typical, isn’t it? Of fucking course I didn’t manage to divert the transmutation and it causes bullshit like this, because why wouldn’t the universe take a piss on my day at every fucking opportunity it gets! You bastard better not wreck my body, I need all my remaining shit as intact as possible.”

Oh, thank god.

It was suddenly very simple to slip into a familiar, teasing dialogue with Ed. “I’m glad you’re all right Fullmetal, and coming to grips with this unexpected new turn so swiftly. May I also say that you wear my features very well – you look positively dashing.” Hearing Ed’s particular griping speech patterns, even if the voice was all wrong, was relief enough to get Roy feeling more like himself again. His reward for his wittiness was an exasperated eyeroll. Seeing it improved his mood more than he’d like to admit. Roy noted with wonder that his face managed to scrunch up in a very Ed way.

“You’ve been outside your own body for maybe five minutes and already you’re talking about your own face. I see your priorities are in order as usual, Mustang. And, well, a few years of running around after weird alchemic shit at least makes you get pretty quick on the uptake with all kinds of crap. No time to get fucking existential about this shit. So, is that fucker dead?” Ed asked nodding toward the Cretan alchemist.

“Ah, well, yes, that seems to be what occurs when one sinks a sharp object into a ribcage with bodily force” Roy offered, gesturing weakly at the dripping automail blade.

Ed’s _\- Roy’s?_ \- eyes dimmed slightly, but he groused “There wasn’t exactly time to fuck around with something nicer since I barely made it in time as it was. The other shitheads gloated about their big plan while they tried to off me, so I knew I’d have to hurry and save your ass before things went to shit. Not that this isn’t, y’know, a disaster as is. And could you hurry up and get me out of these things already?” Ed demanded, twisting to show his bound hands. “Your old-ass bones apparently don’t much appreciate laying around on cold floors being all tied up.”

“Don’t I know it,” Roy muttered under his breath. The brat had some nerve, mocking his age and growling in his usual crass manner using Roy’s smooth voice to do so – though the stressful situation was no doubt responsible for the excessive amount of swearing. Still, it was disrespectful, disgraceful, and completely in keeping with Edward’s usual behaviour. Insubordinate little gnat. Roy began to lever himself up to his feet, but his progress quickly halted as the automail knee refused to cooperate. How embarrassing. “I, ah… Edward?”

“What?” came the terse response, but Ed’s scowl turned thoughtful when he spotted the problem. “Oh yeah, you have no idea how to work those. Damn. Just give your brain a second to figure it out, I guess. Moving them isn’t exactly like moving normal limbs but, ah, it’s not something you can explain real easy. At least my body has all the right connections already somewhere, you just need to find them. I’ll wait right here, not like I’m fuckin’ going anywhere…” Ed trailed off mutinously, but his brows remained furrowed and his eyes fixed intently on Roy. It was a relief that Ed still wore his expressions so plainly – it made reading him easy even when Roy had to do it from completely new features. Roy himself was having enough trouble with getting constantly blindsided with some variation of _I look like that?!_ in his head that he was trying to keep from sight. It wasn’t like it was all negative, but this experience was certainly giving him new perspective, if nothing else. Hah.

Roy turned his focus on learning to use the new kinds of limbs he’d suddenly been saddled with. The sensation was indeed indescribable, but he did manage to eventually translate movement commands into a form the automail seemed to accept. It was a far cry from the effortless power and grace Ed displayed with them every day, but movement had indeed been achieved.

Edward was apparently done with being patient and piped up when Roy had wobbled his way to his feet and was looking at the hand, trying to make it close or open only partway. ”Fuckin’ sweet, now lurch on over here and cut me loose already Mr. _look-I-figured-out-standing.”_

Roy gave him a stink eye out of principle and took a stab at walking. It took far too much concentration to take the required few steps to Ed, and the best that could be said for him was that he managed not to fall down. Finding a balance with the mismatched limbs was a challenge that would take more than a few seconds to master. The leg stump yielded a highly unusual sensation when it took his weight – it didn’t register as pain, but it wasn’t simply pressure either. The weight imbalance was also giving him trouble. All in all, Roy felt that he deserved some pats on the back for doing as well as he had.

“Wohoo, nice going, I’d give you some applause _if my fucking hands weren’t tied._ Stop being a smug bastard and help me.”

You could always trust Ed to give praise as it was due.

Roy kneeled very carefully and used the arm blade to cut through the wrist bindings equally carefully, mindful of his jerky movements. Ed sat up impatiently and freed his ankles himself with a quick clap. He then jumped up, stretching, and exclaimed, “Holy hell, Mustang! Would it kill you to take care of yourself? You aren’t getting any younger you know, get up from that desk of yours sometimes.”

Roy had a scathing remark lined up for that, but it froze in his throat because he’d stood up and here they were, face to face, and… Roy honestly felt like laughing. It was insane, wasn’t it? Here they were, looking at their own bodies through each other’s literal eyes because, what, some hostile alchemist had attacked him with an unpredictable array and Fullmetal’s rescue had gone just wrong enough? It was all so senseless and unbelievable and _funny._

How the hell were they going to get out of this?

To start with, they were alone in enemy territory in an unknown part of a foreign country. Roy had been chosen to represent Amestris in a diplomatic meeting with the Lord Protector of Creta. The meeting was the result of continuing efforts to improve foreign relations and change Amestris for the better. Unfortunately, the whole journey was as dangerous as it was important, especially since it was not especially well looked upon to bring dozens of soldiers to a peace-minded meeting arranged in good faith.

The fractured nature of Creta meant that to reach the seat of its central power from Amestris, one had to travel through several territories belonging to Cretan tribes that were used to having a lot of independent power within their borders and that, as neighbours to Amestris, held considerable bad blood towards her thanks to the many wars and border disputes scattered throughout their violent history. It had been a lengthy and tiring balancing act to secure a passage to Creta’s capital from all the necessary territories and travel was made slow as every local ruling party demanded that they stop for official greetings and niceties if they passed through their lands. Many of the arrangements had been made grudgingly, and Roy knew his own fame had hindered them in part – though Creta had not faced the Flame Alchemist in battle, there were many less flattering names for the Hero of Ishval where the military’s propaganda did not reach.

Yet, who better to send than Brigadier General Mustang, who was well defended even on his own, held the required authority for such talks, and had political skills to spare?

…And if in the end this left Roy with the notable achievement of arranging a peace treaty, well; that was clearly a happy side effect of serving the needs of his country.

As for Fullmetal, Major Elric’s presence at Roy’s side was these days less surprising than one might think. Ever since the Promised Day and the precluding events, they had achieved mutual respect and understanding. They had even, heaven forbid, spoken honestly to each other. The result was a clearer air between them. In the end Ed had somehow decided that Roy was worthy of his confidence and support – a mystery to be sure – and remained at his command to support his bid for Fuhrership instead of resigning. Without the all-consuming quest ruling over his focus, Fullmetal proved to be an irreplaceable ally and asset. Roy struggled to understand how Edward saw Roy and his desperate mission as a thing worthy of his support, but all the same he tried to repay the young man for the honour. Roy trusted him and confided in him in a way that would’ve been impossible with the angry, brilliant child Ed had been. It hardly felt like enough, but still Edward remained at his side, loyal and somehow even seemingly content.

These days they had even achieved a respectable capacity for teamwork. When Fullmetal wasn’t solving problems the way only a state alchemist could in Roy’s name, he stuck close, helping with his alchemy, automail fist, intelligence and reputation, all in equal measure. Incidentally, that’s why Ed was here on this little trip in the first place. Officially he came as Roy’s security detail, and performed that job admirably, but he was also there to help in the negotiations. Having the famous People’s Alchemist at your side was rarely a bad thing in diplomatic encounters, at least when Edward restrained himself from spoiling his own image by being rude and aggressive. His self-control was still occasionally hit-or-miss, but Roy appreciated that Ed was putting in effort for his sake when it mattered.

How they both came to be captured by these fools was less clear. He remembered waking up briefly in his hotel room at their third pitstop in as many territories as two people grabbed him while he was asleep. He had struggled against them but the best he had managed was a bit of thrashing before he’d had to breathe in through the cloth in his face. What he saw before consciousness fled suggested a well-planned, quiet operation that was unlikely to alert anyone – even Edward, who had taken the neighbouring room. Had they targeted them both? It was technically possible that they had sneaked up on Ed the same way they had on him, but somehow it was difficult to imagine such an endeavour ending well for them.

In any case, they were here now – the two of them, in the wrong bodies, stranded who knows where and in deep trouble.

Honestly, Roy couldn’t manage much distress. He was with Edward. What did he have to fear?

Even their alarming situation with the bodies felt surmountable – Ed was an alchemical genius, and the leading authority on pushing through difficulties and _finding a way._ Roy could admit he himself was out of his depth. He knew many strange and terrible things that could be done with alchemy, including Edward’s work with his brother’s soul, but it was hard to imagine how this had been achieved. Could their souls have been ripped out and slammed into different bodies? And what about their minds, and memories? Wasn’t soul binding unstable? Roy hoped Ed would figure out this nonsense because all Roy achieved was aggravating his dimming headache. He’d like to say that shit like this didn’t _happen,_ but… Well. He knew Fullmetal.

Meanwhile, it seemed like Edward was having an internal struggle. Roy observed idly as Ed dragged Roy’s features through a slew of expressions they normally had no business displaying with such freedom. Roy had a feeling that, having worked through the more serious issues, Ed was now biting back something mocking about their current relative heights but had to restrain himself. He no doubt knew Roy would never let it go if he insulted his own height.

There wasn’t even that much difference between them anymore – a few centimetres, maybe. Ed wasn’t as touchy about it anymore, but he still insisted that one day he’d catch up.

Roy knew better.

Surfacing from his thoughts at last, Ed shook himself with a huff and grabbed Roy’s arm to transmute the blade away. He gave a mutinous look and muttered, “At least _you_ have to look up at _me_ now.”

It was painful, but Roy managed not to take the opening. They really had more important things to do than sniping at each other. “Report, Fullmetal. What do you know?”

Ed squared his new shoulders. “I incapacitated three men outside. They dragged me out to shoot me, but they were nervous – not the same guys that took us from the hotel. These ones kept talking and delaying, and even shoved me around a bit. One said, “He should be finished dealing with hellfire about now” in Cretan and I assumed they meant you. Since it was clearly up to me to get you out of trouble, I faked a fall and drew an array on the ground. Dealt with the fuckers, ran to the only big building, saw an active array and leapt in like an idiot. Now we’re here.”

Roy started pacing – with difficulty. Better get used to walking on the leg. “How much did you see outside?”

Ed was talking almost before Roy finished the question. “We’re on a compound, but a small one. This is the main building, there’s a wing that way, and there was a garage and maybe a storage. Forest all around. It’s still night and we’re not hungry enough for a day to have passed.” Ed stretched while he talked, then turned a calculating eye on the array responsible for their plight.

Roy left him to it for now. The sooner they knew exactly what had happened, the sooner they could fix it. They needed to prioritize investigating the transmutation along with getting back to allies. Roy doubted either of them wanted to stay like this while researching a solution from scratch. While Ed worked his magic with alchemy, Roy could do his part as a strategist.

The provided information allowed him to make some educated guesses. The garage and the forest implied they had been transported by car, and no more than a few hours could’ve passed. The small and isolated compound was likely here entirely for the alchemist’s purposes since alchemy with results like this was better hidden away. The successful kidnapping from a mostly secure location meant this was bigger than a crazy alchemist and his buddies.

Walking was getting easier, but that only meant he wasn’t in danger of falling with every step. He clanked as he moved.

They needed to find out everything they could about the enemy. They needed to find out where exactly they were. They should attempt contact with Havoc and Breda but since they had no established communication lines in this country that might be impossible. Finding a car and picking a direction could work depending on how prepared their enemies were and how isolated the compound was. Calling in help would be better. Finding a map, among other things, would be best.

“Mustang, a hand?” called Roy’s voice. Dear lord, it was upsetting to hear someone else use it – it sounded different from outside his head.

Ed was standing by the body. He probably wanted it moved so he could see the parts it was covering. Roy limped over and grabbed the legs. The steel hand clamped on with worrying mechanical strength. Well, not like the poor man would feel it.

They lifted the body outside the array and set it down. Roy had just thought that the man must’ve been very thin under his clothes to weigh so little when Ed groaned his discontent and said, “At least you’re not a complete pencil pusher, but man, I miss my strength. I work hard for that, you know.” He punctuated this with a glare like he was accusing Roy of stealing it from him unfairly. Which… was fair.

But not grounds for letting him get the last word. “Yes, I can tell. It’s much appreciated. And no-one told you to _leap in like an idiot,_ as you so put it.”

Ed scoffed and rubbed his back with completely unnecessary theatrics as he broke the outer circle of the array with his foot. “Oh, so you’d prefer to be in that sorry…” Ed started, gesturing to the body, but he trailed off and his expression fell as his eyes landed on it. He turned back to the array with dark eyes and set off towards the bloodstain.

Roy watched as Ed clapped and transmuted the blood into small crystals that scattered around him. “Thank you, Edward. For saving me.” Ed did not acknowledge him, instead studying the revealed lines. “It might not be what you want to hear right now, but you made the right call. We’d be in much deeper trouble if he could hold my body hostage.”

“Yeah,” came a clipped response. Roy waited, but apparently that was all he was going to get. He let it go.

Ambling carefully next to Ed, Roy studied the array. He recognized a few symbols, but that was about all he could say at first glance. There was very little elemental information on it. Ed was crouched, focused intently on the area the blood had covered. Soon enough, he glanced at Roy and started explaining in his Alchemy Voice.

“At first, I thought this might be soul binding – you know, rip them off and slap them on opposite bodies? Only with the array finishing the job on its own weight since he apparently wanted to do it to himself, which by the way sounds volatile as fuck. But it’s actually not that, it’s something a bit smarter. The array creates a link between two people that works sort of like your soul was attached to two bodies. Then it uses that connection to lever each mind to the opposing body and fixes it there. The result should be something more stable than soul binding.”

Roy swallowed. A soul attached to two bodies? “Meaning we probably don’t need to worry about it deteriorating on its own, at least. If the “fix” holding the minds in place was broken, would the situation correct itself?”

Edward looked thoughtful as he scanned the edges of the array. “That’s hard to say. The connection would still be there, and the mind is the bridge between body and soul. A lot of things could happen. And there’s another problem.” Ed pointed to a spot next to him. “This is where I tackled the alchemist. He messed up some of the marks as he fell.”

Some of the chalk lines had indeed been blurred. “Can you tell what was there?”

Ed frowned. “Pretty much, but that’s not the issue. The transmutation was still going when the array was changed, so there’s no telling how it could’ve been affected. It’s a miracle it didn’t just rebound, especially since I kind of took control of it halfway. And this area controls the _mind-switching-and-attaching_ part of the whole equation, which doesn’t fill me with confidence here.”

That was indeed quite worrying. Roy wasn’t a fan of his mind being the subject of an unstable transmutation. “I see. How exactly was it supposed to work?”

Ed stood up and started pacing. “The other parts would’ve first created the connection. The array would’ve then built energy to sort of fling the minds around with force, then automatically fix them in place. He made the energy build up purposefully slow, probably so he’d have time to do something about the fact that he’d be ending up in the body that was tied up. It should’ve taken maybe a few minutes, but we blacked out for a while ‘cos the whole thing went sideways, so it’s hard to say if that was affected. Besides that… we’ll just have to wait and see what comes up.”

“Well, that’s… alarming, but I suppose we’re better served worrying about other things for now. We need to search for information and form a plan. We’ll go through this building thoroughly, then see what we have. And… stay alert, Fullmetal. I doubt I’ll be much use for a while, yet.” It was better to admit it, Roy thought as he tested the metal hand’s jerky movements. Edward’s body was a precise and powerful tool and Roy was ashamed to admit that he felt like a simpleton staggering around and waving a welding torch as he tried to perform the simplest actions with it, but enemy territory was no place for foolish pride.

Edward flinched. “Yeah, I’ll keep my eyes peeled as long as you’re piloting that piece of junk. Try not to fall, or whatever.”

Roy blinked, and would’ve asked what he was talking about, but Ed was already well on his way towards the door leading further into the building. Roy resolved to bring it up later – he did not just hear Ed call his own body a “piece of junk”. Maybe it wasn’t in pristine condition, but that hardly made it weak or broken. Adversity had bestowed it ethereal strength and resilience.

…Roy would find better words to bring his point across. Later.

They found a promising room after checking only a few doors. It was crammed with tables and shelves, most of which were covered in books and papers. Only a small short-range communication radio had a clean table to itself, segregated to its own corner far from the encroaching mess. Ed was already diving into what had to be the notes of the deceased alchemist. Roy gave the radio a brief look before joining him, but he wouldn’t know which local frequencies to contact even if the radio had the power to reach them.

Most things in the room were written, predictably, in Cretan. Thankfully both Roy and Ed had picked up Cretan as preparation for the journey, in record time no less. Roy would’ve been proud if the reason behind their swift progress didn’t make him feel sick.

Seeing the Truth had made learning new things different. While reading on academic subjects, Roy sometimes got the unsettling feeling he was simply refreshing half-forgotten memories even when he was reading cutting-edge studies or theories. The effect was fragmented and made him incredibly uneasy besides, but it had undeniably made absorbing new knowledge much faster. Complex ideas fell into place like they had always belonged in his head. Thinking about how the Gate had done this to him, however, was always nauseating. He knew the memory of his mind being ripped open and knowledge, great and terrible, pouring through him would never fade.

Learning new languages with ease was apparently one of the boons granted by the experience. When Roy had taken to brushing up on his basic Cretan, he had found himself becoming fluent in short time. The Truth had in its passing carved space for entire languages, and the hollows drew in knowledge like desert sands drank water.

Regardless, Cretan was coming in handy now. The two of them rifled through papers, sorting the useless from the potentially important. Roy had never been good with paperwork and the task became tedious quickly. He was checking the written notes of a routine call from the alchemist’s benefactor for anything useful, but the lines became meaningless as his focus wandered and his mind latched on to stray thoughts to distract itself.

The easiest target in this case was his borrowed body. He’d had a moment to calm down, and their tedious task afforded him plenty of time to feel what residing in a completely different vessel was like. All the old and familiar aches, scars and tensions were gone, replaced with a set of all new ones. Roy hadn’t thought it’d be possible to miss the way his hands ached and trembled thanks to his scars when he gripped something tightly, but he supposed it was all a matter of perspective. Funnily enough, he could still feel a large scar on his torso, pulling when the skin stretched. By which he meant it wasn’t funny at all. When had Ed been so heavily injured?

He wondered if it was cruel for Edward to have four limbs again, only for them to be taken away again when they fixed this. He hoped Ed got something out of the experience, at least.

Roy shook himself free of the thought and decided the paper he was holding held nothing useful to them. He discarded it in favour of a list of supplies from two months ago and kept reading.

He was interrupted soon by a bark of laughter from Ed. He startled badly and had to remind himself that this was Ed, not a stranger despite the laugh sounding unfamiliar. Berating his own distractedness, Roy turned to raise an eyebrow at Ed, who was reading what looked like a journal. “This guy was writing about how he was practicing being you. He had trouble with flame alchemy and decided that being able to make wild bursts of varying strengths would “ _have to do”,_ reckoned your skills had to be exaggerated anyway.” Ed laughed again, this time darker. “Hawkeye would’ve seen through this guy in about a second. He’s lucky we fucked up his plans, he would’ve been in deep shit if he somehow got back to Amestris as you.”

Roy bit his tongue to hold the comment about the man’s current relative unluckiness. Ed had during these past years let go of his resolution not to kill under any circumstances, but admitting it was sometimes unavoidable and having the resolve to follow through when it truly was the best option was not the same thing as being fine with having to kill and not carrying heavy guilt for it. Roy should know.

Sometimes, Roy was very proud of the man Edward had become. And sometimes, Roy was very ashamed of himself and his part in it. The least he could do was keep his mouth shut when doing otherwise would only bring harm. He gave his vague agreement and turned back to his reading. Then his brain made a connection and he quickly swerved back. “He was practicing my alchemy? Does that mean there are ignition gloves here?”

“Must be. We’ll need to look for clothes anyway. We’ll come across them,” Ed mused. Relief washed over Roy and he had to convince himself not to go find the gloves right away. He’d feel leagues better with them, but they’d get to them in due time.

Ed handed Roy the journal once he was done with it. It belonged to one Hector Rovez, the Roy Mustang impersonator enthusiast whose current occupation was being dead. Before that he had been an alchemist studying soul alchemy, apparently aware of its problems to some extent and theorizing ways to work around them. He’d been very patriotic and had been disgustingly delighted with the idea of killing Roy and infiltrating the Amestrian high command as him. Thankfully the personal comments about Amestris and _“Hellfire”_ were few and most of the journal consisted of notes about his research and mimicking progress. Someone had given him extensive materials from which to study Roy and his behaviour – the same benefactor that featured often on the various papers scattered around, no doubt.

Rovez had been working on a version of the array for years, and apparently in anticipation of Roy’s visit he had been contacted and given this place and plenty of resources to finish and fine-tune it. The plan wasn’t written down anywhere, but it wasn’t exactly hard to figure out. A loyal Cretan would be sent as Roy back to Amestris where he could do with his rank and position whatever the hell he pleased, until his cover was eventually blown at least. Roy had already found a note specifying the people Rovez would’ve passed his intel on to get it back to Creta. He had every intention of taking care of _that_ once he was back home.

Roy skimmed through the rest of the journal, after which he and Ed compared notes. They hadn’t found anything specific enough about their position to be of any real help. Their defeated captors were the only permanent residents of the compound, but there were some reinforcements an hour’s ride away. Ed had reaffirmed that his interpretation of the array had been correct, but unfortunately, he hadn’t learnt anything useful about reversing the effects.

Satisfied for now, Roy decided they should move on and check the rest of the building. They found some supplies, food, and bags in which to pack them. They also found clothes that fit Roy’s body with minor adjustments and, to Roy’s great relief, a pair of ignition gloves. He tugged them on, pleased, while Ed snatched the clothes with an unreadable expression and stalked to the next room. Roy stood there testing his snapping ability with the automail and carefully didn’t think about Ed stripping Roy’s body behind the wall.

The automail was not yielding to his attempts. Roy wasn’t very surprised. The combination of lacking dexterity and sensation meant that while he might be able to create enough friction for the spark, it would be too unreliable for use in combat. He’d be managing with his left hand for now. The gloves themselves were second-rate imitations compared to his usual ones, but they would serve well enough for now. Roy snapped a few sparks experimentally to get used to the difference. The material was different, but hopefully that would only be a minor annoyance.

Ed opened the door, wearing dark and practical clothing. He clapped and disintegrated Roy’s sleep clothes pointedly. Roy decided to not comment on this.

They headed back to the room with the books and papers to pick what they wanted to take with them in case the rest was lost or destroyed. They needed research on the array to help find a way to reverse their swap and evidence that might help track down the people behind this entire plan. They couldn’t, however, fill their bags with piles of paper, so they sat down to sort through it all and argue about what was important enough to include. It was riveting and infuriating in equal measure.

They were almost done when the radio interrupted them by crackling to life, broadcasting a woman’s voice asking for response in Cretan. Roy looked at it, then at Ed, who mirrored his own wide-eyed look.

_“Come in Outpost Alpha, this is Headquarters. Were you successful?”_

Fullmetal dropped the papers in his hands and was next to Roy in an instant. Roy was already talking, his mind running through options. “It’s bound to be a scheduled check-in. There are not enough personnel to dedicate someone to permanent radio duty. If they get no response, they’ll assume something’s gone wrong and they’ll be coming down on our heads as soon as they can get mobilized. We need to at least try and give a response. If we get some information out of it, so much the better.”

Fullmetal’s focused, piercing gaze was still unmistakable even when it was delivered from dark eyes and greater height. “With so little manpower present, she’ll recognize everyone by voice,” he noted, then blinked “…except that the alchemist is supposed to be in your body right now. Huh.”

_“Outpost Alpha, respond or we will assume something has gone wrong. 60 seconds.”_

“Exactly.” Roy wondered how his customary smirk looked on Edward’s face. “Use standard radio etiquette. Primarily aim to keep suspicions down, secondarily fish for anything you can. Understood, Fullmetal?”

Ed nodded tightly and settled in front of the radio. He hesitated with the mouthpiece for a breath, then spoke in clipped Cretan. “Outpost Alpha responding, Hector here, sorry for the delay. We were still cleaning up. I was successful.” He even managed to sound happy about it, like an alchemist completing a long-awaited transmutation should be.

 _“So it sounds, though it also sounds like you gained an accent. You aren’t undercover yet, Hector, no need for the theatrics.”_ The woman sounded suspicious, and Roy cursed under his breath. Fullmetal stiffened visibly. His Cretan was good, but apparently not good enough to pass as native. Roy counted two long seconds before Fullmetal recovered.

“It’s this blasted man’s vocal chords. I can’t quite get them to work properly yet. A few hours and I’m sure I’ll get the hang of it. Are we on schedule?”

_“…Yes, for now. Hector, you wouldn’t mind reciting our next steps for me, would you?”_

Damn. It had been as good of an excuse as they’d be likely to find, and she hadn’t bought it. There wasn’t time to discuss with Fullmetal what the enemy’s likeliest plan of action was. Roy could only hope Edward’s quick mind was piecing together something suitably vague and believable.

“I realize you want to make sure it’s me, but we don’t have time for this nonsense. Fine. I will be relocated back near the Luminare hotel with the Fullmetal alchemist’s corpse, which I will drag back to Mustang’s entourage along with a story of an attack, during which Elric sadly lost his life in my defence. The diplomatic meeting will be called off and I will take Mustang’s place as they head back to Amestris. I’ll need to integrate carefully before I start taking action and relaying information through our people.” Fullmetal sounded suitably bored and annoyed, and the guess he’d made might just pass muster. Roy held his breath as the silence stagnated. A small eternity passed before it finally broke with a crackle.

 _“I do not know what those hirelings were thinking, or how they managed to take Fullmetal along with you, Mustang, but it was assuredly not the plan._ ” …Fuck. _“It is unfortunate that taking your body was not successful, but I was always prepared for this possibility. I will make sure you die, Hellfire, even if I have to choke the life from you with my own hands.”_

The radio returned to silence. Ed stood up and threw the mouthpiece at the radio with feeling.

“Quite,” Roy agreed.

Ed stalked away to shove handfuls of paper into his bag. “We need to be going Mustang, right the fuck now.”

“True,” Roy said mildly as he went to help with the shoving. “Though this wasn’t a complete loss. In hindsight, I doubt we were ever going to fool her thanks to the language, and at this point everything we learn about our enemies is an advantage we’ve gained.”

“Sure,” Ed muttered, but he seemed marginally mollified. He side-eyed Roy as they were tying up their bags and ventured, “She seemed to have it out for you. Think that was the mastermind behind this whole shitfest?”

Roy gave this some thought. “Possibly. She had some authority, at least. And I suppose my reputation precedes me even here. _Hellfire…_ I wasn’t aware I had a Cretan moniker.”

“Yeah, it’s kinda cool” said Ed cheerfully. “Too bad it probably has some shitty associations for Cretans if your kidnapper threw it in your face like an insult.”

Roy hummed. “It would be more your style, anyway. But that reminds me, if their plan didn’t include grabbing you along with me, how did you end up getting taken?”

“Oh, that.” Edward was biting his lip. It was good to know the expression worked for Roy’s face, at least the way Ed did it. “I know they told us the security at the Luminare is top notch – which, by the way, _I told you so._ But I couldn’t really sleep, so I was just working on stuff in my room. I was gonna go walk the hallways until I got tired enough to pass out, but then I heard a noise from your room through the wall. I thought you were still up, so I was gonna check in, complain about the hotel maybe. I knocked on your door and got it thrown in my face. It dazed me enough that a couple guys got the chance to pile on me. I fought and tried to raise hell, but they got me down with a rag in my face. That’s about it.”

Roy swallowed the clawing fear of how _easy_ it would’ve been for them to finish off Edward right then and there. He silently thanked whatever had made them take Fullmetal with them instead.

They passed through the array room and gave it a last check on their way out. Edward crouched next to the body for a moment, then stood up with a scoff – Roy could almost feel his knees protesting – and stalked to the door leading outside. Roy gave a final glance back at the array, then hurried after Ed, cursing their new leg proportions and his spotty control of the automail.

He was still a few steps behind when a shadow moved towards Fullmetal’s back from behind the opened door. Roy’s warning was too late even as he voiced it, but Ed’s awareness and reflexes didn’t fail him. He turned and snapped his right forearm up just in time to block an axe aiming for his head. As the handle made a nasty impact with his arm, he gave a muffled, angry exclamation and kicked the attacker away. Ed staggered back a few steps while clutching his arm, and Roy got a good look at the attacker. His face was covered in blood and twisted in a hateful snarl aimed at Ed, who he must’ve thought was Roy. He was already swinging the axe a second time, ignoring Roy completely.

Hot blood rushed to his head, drowning out everything resembling sense. His hand came up without conscious thought, and he managed to glimpse the spreading horror and realization on the man’s face before it was engulfed in flame.

For two beats of his heart Roy was viciously content. Then reality came rushing back and he killed the fire.

He knew it was already too late – he’d filled the man’s lungs with fire. He fell to the ground without a sound, face ravaged by the intense, hungry flames. Unconscious or not, he’d be dead very soon.

Ed was panting, left hand hovering over his right arm. His eyes were glued to the attacker for several aching seconds before he closed his eyes and bent his head. Roy couldn’t make himself study Edward’s expression closely, and instead took the time to sort through his own shaken composure. He’d reacted and there’d been no time to spare. The rest he could think about later.

In a few more shuddering breaths, Ed shifted his footing and touched his arm with a hiss. “It’s broken,” he reported before going to check on the prone body. His actions were automatic, and his expression remained blank. “I knocked him unconscious earlier, but I guess he had a hard head. I destroyed all their guns, too, but that didn’t slow him down much. Where the hell did he find an axe…” He lingered over the man for a moment before he stood and turned to Roy, face revealing nothing.

Roy deemed himself sufficiently put-together again and redirected his attention. “We’ll bind the arm when we’re a bit safer. We should check the rest of the men you decommissioned. Where did you leave them?”

Ed led the way to them more carefully. He kept wincing every few steps. After a few moments of silence, he spoke out without looking at Roy. “Here I was warning you about messing up my body, and instead I’m the one getting yours hurt. _And,_ you’re protecting me when it should be the other way around. I’m just acing my job today, huh?”

A glance told Roy that Ed looked pained and was covering it with a self-deprecating grin – poorly. Roy didn’t make it a habit to coddle Fullmetal with encouragement or praise. The man had pride and strength, and stroking his ego was unnecessary. Still, this might be an occasion for an exception. The events hadn’t been Ed’s fault, but he’d have no trouble spinning it that way in his mind.

Either way, now wasn’t the time for anything more than a quick defusal. “It’s not like I can talk. I can barely use half of these limbs, so I’d say you’re doing better.”

Roy was hoping for a scoff at least but got nothing in response. He was wondering if he’d miscalculated, but they reached their destination before he could decide on an approach.

There was a small box of a building, behind which were signs of a struggle. Two men remained – one encased in an alchemised earthen hold and the other lying senseless on the ground. The trapped one was awake and blinking at them, looking confused and ill. Ed went to check on the prone man while Roy walked over to the discarded, broken cuffs Ed had left behind next to a simple, yet elegant array-

“FUCKING SHITHEAD ASS _FUCK!”_

Roy almost jumped out of his skin. To his shame, his first thought was horror at the undignified way the voice cracked in its anger. He knew he did that when he screamed in rage, but did it really sound that silly?

But the worry wasn’t far behind. Spinning around quickly – almost unbalancing, damn all that metal – he only saw Ed, kneeling next to the prone man. The question almost got out, but he managed to arrest it in time.

From this angle he could see the staring, blank eyes. Dried blood stained the hair.

Roy turned away. He could say something about how difficult it was to judge the strength of automail normally, let alone when in a hurry to save someone’s life. It would be the wrong thing to say, though. Anything he’d say right now would be the wrong thing to say.

They’d already had a long night and it wasn’t over yet. Ed knew that Roy needed his steel right now, and Roy could give him the time to find it himself.

Roy had a look at the imprisoned man. His mouth wasn’t covered but he didn’t seem inclined to talking. His eyes darted between them. Roy decided it was safe to leave him there.

He could hear Ed standing up behind him. He turned to look and found Fullmetal looking back, the steel clear beneath the turmoil in his eyes. Seeing it broke Roy’s heart and filled him with wonder in equal measure.

They walked in silence to have a look inside the little storage building. It was unlocked, and presumably the source of the axe based on the other contents.

“They literally took me behind the shed,” Ed said blankly. He quirked Roy a little smile. “Unbelievable. No respect, these guys.”

A quick check of the remaining buildings revealed their options to be limited. There were no vehicles and following the only passing road on foot was a sure way to walk into their enemies’ hands. Instead, they headed for the surrounding woods.

Trying to find their way to civilization by stumbling blindly around the forest was a last-ditch plan, but for now the forest would provide an excellent hiding place for two alchemists. The woods were wild enough that making a natural-looking cover for a small shelter was not an issue. They remained close enough to the compound that they could easily sneak closer to see and hear what was happening in it. Roy splinted Ed’s arm, hyperaware of his jerky movements with the automail. Ed gave no reaction to the treatment.

With the essentials taken care of, they sat down to wait for sunrise. Neither of them made a move to lay down for sleep. Roy knew he should insist, but he couldn’t make himself say the words.

“What’re our odds for Havoc and Breda finding us?”

Ed broke the silence with the abrupt question. His expression was blank. Roy had a sudden revelation – this must be what people saw and felt when he grilled them from behind his desk. Confirmation of the potent effect should surely be reassuring to him. Surely.

“Fairly low. We might get lucky, of course, but this operation doesn’t seem incompetently handled. Havoc and Breda are working with limited resources in foreign territory. It’s most likely up to us to reach them.”

Ed nodded grimly and turned away, but Roy saw the opening and grabbed it with both hands.

“You said you took over the transmutation halfway through. What… happened?”

Ed glanced at him from the corner of his eye before answering. “When I tackled the alchemist, he lost concentration and I took the opportunity and fought him for control of the reaction. He… wasn’t in the best shape, so I won. Kinda. I recognized that he was a part of the transmutation, and anything he wanted was obviously bad, so I shoved him out. I didn’t really have time to do anything else – the reaction was already underway, and it grabbed me along instead. I tried to force it to a stop, but apparently it was too late at that point. I was still trying when I lost consciousness.”

Roy couldn’t help his wry smile. “You’re incredible. You do know that, right?”

Ed glared at him with suspicion. Roy shook his head. All this time, and he was still constantly amazed by Edward’s skill and daring. He had purposefully attempted to rebound an unknown, ongoing transmutation onto himself after stealing it from under another alchemist. No-one else, Roy swears.

But this was an important opportunity to do something about Edward’s alarming state of mind following the night’s tumultuous events. “Speaking of things you should know, this entire debacle is in no form on your shoulders. You did everything I would expect of a bodyguard and more. The circumstances were simply against us.”

Something sparked in Ed’s eyes and he turned to Roy with such ferocity that he recoiled reflexively. “Everything you would expect? You call getting three people killed something you’d expect? How about getting decked _with a door?_ Or being almost executed by some fucking thugs? Breaking your arm like a damn idiot? Or _getting you stuck in that mangled, pathetic excuse of a body you can barely walk in? That about par for the course for me?!”_

The fire blazing through Ed’s eyes was entirely unfitting for the dark colour it had for a vessel. Roy almost expected those eyes to burst into golden flames any second to better showcase the rage coursing within.

“I give you the body of an old, scarred, non-athletic alchemist that mostly sits behind a desk all day long and in return gain the most finely-tuned, dangerous physique in all of Amestris, which I can operate nowhere close to its potential, and _you’re_ feeling inadequate?”

Roy knew that wasn’t what he should be focusing on. He was probably making things worse by airing his own grievances, but the words came out of his mouth without any conscious input.

Edward’s expression twisted with incredulity and he responded with something like desperation. “You can’t be serious. Disregarding that somehow you think becoming _a cripple_ isn’t a downgrade, you can’t tell me that I haven’t failed my goddamn job today. I mean, you-“

With only a moment of vertigo as warning, Edward’s voice was suddenly cut off as everything doubled.

Two separate bodies he felt with, two opposing images he saw, two startled, inhaling pairs of lungs. An arm broken and another missing. And-

 _And he felt worried about Ed’s broken arm and the splint, and about how Roy was dealing with the automail, and guilty about taking something so fit, so whole, something golden, exotic, beautiful and desirable and effortlessly radiant, carefully maintained and_ strong, _and giving in return a thing so broken, weak, tarnished, old, scarredugly_ wrong _to someone he-_

As abruptly as it had appeared, the… experience, feeling, _thing,_ disappeared again, leaving behind disorientation and nausea. Roy yelped with his own voice and felt throbbing pain where a moment ago there had been echoing emptiness. When he found Ed’s eyes, they were shocked, amazed, and most importantly golden again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve wondered about why I prefer stories where Ed keeps his alchemy and automail after the end of the show. I think it boils down to both of those things being surprisingly big parts of his character, at least when it comes to action. Brotherhood has a good ending that wraps up all the threads and gives satisfying conclusions to characters. It, in fact, does it too well. How do you write a plot where post-brotherhood Ed gets back into action with Mustang and gang, and have it make sense? Another point for me is, after all that time following Ed’s adventures as he is on the show, I’m left craving for more of him – specifically the version he was for most of that show, not the one he becomes after the end. After those events he is still Ed for sure, but he is notably different. And though he’s still interesting and compelling, that’s still not the character I grew to love because that character had to go to give the story the ending its creator wanted to give it.
> 
> I don’t know if this is an opinion shared by others, but it’s something I’ve been thinking about, and the reason this is AU. The “Ed stays in the military” bit is just my personal preference and better suits my plot purposes.
> 
> The chapter count might or might not be accurate, but I'm going to finish this story if it kills me. Wish me luck?


	2. Entangled

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good 5/20 to everyone!

There were days that dragged on for ages, draining everything from you and heaping shit on you until you were choking on it. Those days sucked.

And then there were days like this one. Ed was pretty fucking done with this day. He was laying on the forest floor, looking at the dark canopy and seething. He’d just been through one of the worst nights of his entire life. He had failed Roy in a multitude of different, idiotic ways and had had to kill people _because he was a fucking dumbass waste of space and an incompetent idiot._

But self-pity had never gotten anyone anywhere, and Roy had apparently decided to turn a blind eye to his newest failures, so Ed would simply have to fucking grit his teeth and do better.

Right now, getting some sleep would be a good start. He’d tried to tell Roy to get some sleep first, but Roy had only smiled all pained and said that the broken arm would just keep him awake anyway until he got used to it. So, like, nice fucking job Elric.

Roy hadn’t said the last part, but Ed didn’t need anyone else telling him when he had fucked up. He’d gained at least that much self-awareness from his plentiful experience on the matter.

The point was, Ed was supposed to be getting some sleep while Roy kept watch. Instead he was seething in useless rage at himself and glaring in turn at the night sky peeking through the leaves and Roy’s back.

It was a relief to be back in his own body, but his head was still muddled from the whole fucking ordeal. Ghost sensations chased him as he watched Roy shift and roll his shoulders, no doubt trying to ease the deep tension he had in his shoulders from all the deskwork. The forceful switch they’d just gone through had been… indescribable. The memory of it was slippery when Ed tried to grasp it, and what he did remember felt nonsensical. He figured that their minds had, for a passing moment, been crammed together and forced to overlap. It made as much sense as anything else did based on their knowledge of that fucking array, and it would explain what they had experienced. If the power binding their minds to the wrong bodies had indeed suddenly failed, it might’ve led to their minds snapping back and, on the way, passing through one another.

Once they’d reoriented Roy had quickly made sure that they were both on the same page about what happened before he’d swiftly directed the conversation away with professional skill. Before he knew it, Ed was lying down, trying to fall asleep. He thought about getting pissed at the bastard on principle for playing him like that, but in truth he couldn’t help but agree with him. Talking about it… no. It wouldn’t help anyone. Ed didn’t get unsettled easily, but that brief violation of his individuality and autonomy as a person had been horrifying perhaps most of all because of how horrifying it _hadn’t_ felt at the time. Only after the fact, when Ed had figured out what the fuck had happened. And it had sprung on them out of the blue, with no warning and nothing they could’ve done to prevent it.

At least it had served to ease some of Ed’s guilt. It had revealed some things – namely, how their thoughts on the switch had been mirror images. Both were agonizing over their seemingly unfair gain on the expense of the other. It would’ve been hard not to understand the other’s perspective when you’ve literally felt their thoughts on the matter, so Ed was guessing that the matter had been dropped.

It still bothered him a little, no matter how fine Roy had been with it. Ed got to borrow a healthy and whole body while its real owner was shunted with his crippled, ruined one. The damage it holds is Ed’s penance and burden. ‘Course it’d be nice if he could be free of it sometimes, but as usual, there was an exchange. If someone blameless had to be stuck with his mistakes while Ed got a taste of freedom, then no thanks.

But seeing – _feeling_ – that Roy honestly didn’t think of it that way had helped.

What it didn’t help with was the fact that Ed had killed two people and indirectly caused the death of a third one today. Accident, enemy, lack of options – words meant nothing. If he’d paid more attention at the hotel, been careful, been faster, been better…

But Ed knew by now that what ifs were poison. People were dead. They’d been his enemies, had tried to kill him, and they wouldn’t care about his regrets even if they could. He’d been through this before. The only way was forward. Standing still, freezing, giving up… it wasn’t an option.

Roy was down an arm, and Ed was his only backup. Right now, he needed to be Fullmetal for him.

For that, he’d need to get some sleep.

Ed closed his eyes on the sight of Roy fiddling with his splint. He’d bound the damn arm himself, so the bastard had no room to complain…

Ed woke up in possibly the worst way he’s ever woken up. Without warning, his sleeping mind was thrust into an awake body. Except he was also still in the one waking rudely from deep slumber, and _he was just looking at the sky turn lighter when something in his head had tilted and he’d barely had time to think “not again” before he was suddenly also in a body that was awake though he’d just been asleep- no, he’d been awake, hadn’t he? Looking at the…_

The connection to his waking body and to Roy was cut off and he was sitting, looking at the sky, in a body that wasn’t his. The sense of abrupt displacement was stark and painful. He knew he was gasping, and probably shaking, and only one thought made it through to his head.

_We’re so fucked._

Ed sat there for a moment, calming his breathing and contemplating just how fucked they were.

After finding an answer – _totally, absolutely fucked_ – Ed turned to Roy. He was sitting hunched over and hiding behind a curtain of hair. The bastard had stolen Ed’s hiding place, the absolute fucker.

“Was it as bad for you as it was for me?” Ed quipped. Waking up by way of simply not being asleep anymore from one moment to the next had in all honesty felt so horrible that it wasn’t even funny, but downplaying things was his tried and tested way of dealing with stuff.

…But he wasn’t usually in the habit of tossing jokes of that tone around. The bastard had to be rubbing off on him.

Roy apparently didn’t appreciate his methods and shifted to give him an unimpressed look. “I’m fairly certain I experienced everything you did and vice versa. So yes. It was.”

Ed rolled his eyes. When someone else did it, it wasn’t as funny anymore? Figures.

“Right, so, clearly we’re not quite done with this shit yet. I think it’s not getting a good enough grip on our minds, or the energy trying to hold it isn’t enough. The question is-“

“Edward.” Roy was studying the automail hand with pursed lips. Ed wished he wouldn’t stare at it like that, but it’s not like he had a say in the matter right now. What, exactly, would he say? _Please don’t look at your hand like that?_ “If we’re going to be passing through each other’s minds involuntarily, we need to have an understanding.”

Well. Matter un-dropped, apparently. But, yeah, Roy wasn’t wrong. “I get it. We gotta go easy on each other about the shit we might see in there. Won’t be fun, but we’ll cross that bridge later and whatever.”

Roy gave a crooked, thin smile. “How eloquent. But yes. I suspect we might need to extend our patience and understanding for each other in this. Perhaps we might agree to suspend any snap judgements until at least after a real conversation has been had on whatever matter arises?”

If Roy was worried that Ed would get a glimpse of Ishval or something and ditch him like a bad habit, he was seriously underestimating Ed and how much he knew and understood about Roy and his past actions. But whatever his reasoning, Ed wasn’t about to turn down a deal that might mitigate some damage this ongoing bullshit would no doubt cause, goddamn self-fulfilling prophecy of oversharing that it was.

“Fine by me. Right now, there’s other shit to worry about. How long was I out?”

Roy’s eyes narrowed with sharp focus. “A couple hours, maybe less. We… we switched faster this time, didn’t we? Is the transmutation deteriorating?”

Ed ground his teeth. He really wasn’t a fan of the guessing game with shit this serious. “I’m thinking that there are two options – either something unknown triggers it randomly, which is pretty fucking bad, or it’s unwinding unpredictably, and the switches will keep happening faster and faster, which is really goddamn extra bad and leaves us in deep shit, not least because what exactly will happen when the time between them will start approaching zero is anyone’s fucking guess. Three guesses for which one I think it’ll wind up being on the basis that the universe giving us a fucking break would probably be against the natural order or something.”

Roy went pale, but his determination didn’t waver. “We need to assume we’re dealing with the worst-case scenario regardless. I expect we cannot count on a predictable timeframe.”

“Yeah, like it’d be that easy.” That rat-bastard, Mustang-hating nationalist asshole alchemist was somewhere laughing at them. Metaphorically.

“Then we need to act as soon as we can. The sun is rising in any case, and our enemies will be searching for us in earnest with the help of the daylight. I doubt we’ll have time to find a way around them – we’ll simply need to take them by surprise.”

“Right. Should be fun.” Strange thing was, it probably would be. Ed could’ve really done with a good fight right about then. And fighting with Roy was always awesome. It wouldn’t be easy, but in their lives, what was? A little risk was just the thing to get him in a better mood.

“If… our circumstances remain uncertain for now, perhaps each of us should wear an ignition glove.” Roy didn’t look anxious, but he absolutely was if Ed was any judge.

“Good call. Here.” Ed tugged the left glove off and tossed it to Roy. He then looked at the remaining glove thoughtfully. It would be more difficult to use it with the broken arm, and if he was careful about the array…

Ed took the glove off and ran through the needed equation in his mind. A completed circle, a flash of power, and he turned it into a left-hand one. A quick test proved that the ignition cloth still worked and that the array was fine. Ed had known it would be useful to know the composition of ignition cloth someday.

Ed noticed Roy staring at him, and it occurred to him that he’d never told Roy that he’d tested out his flame array at one point. Out of scientific interest, of course. The constant and flawless concentration it took to use it like Roy did would’ve been too much of a hassle to learn, but he wouldn’t burn his own fingers off with the array, was what he was saying. To himself. In his mind. “What’re you looking at?” he said mostly to say something.

Roy blinked a couple times and tilted his head thoughtfully. “Hm. I shouldn’t be surprised. We’ll eat and get ready to go. I’d feel better about this if we waited for the next switch and then attacked immediately after, but without any guarantees on the rate of acceleration we’re dealing with we can’t afford that.”

Roy shifted to stand up but froze as Ed’s untied hair fell in his face in the progress. He looked so puzzled about what to do about it that Ed couldn’t help a snort. “Come on, I’ll get that up in a braid for you.”

Roy looked torn, so Ed got up instead to go to him. “What about the arm?” Roy asked, eyeing the splint with worry.

Ed wasn’t dissuaded, however, and sat down behind Roy. “Are you telling me you’ve got the fine motor control with automail to deal with hair? You might manage a shitty tail at best, and if we’re gonna end up in a fight it’s better to have it braided just to be safe. Now shut up and sit still.”

Roy relented and allowed Ed to get on with the plaiting. The broken arm wasn’t honestly even that bad if he was careful. Apparently, pain tolerance was mental enough to cross over. Ed was thankful – it had cost him quite a bit.

Ed could barely remember the last time he’d plaited hair that wasn’t his own. Except, no, this was still his hair. But it had been a long time since he did a braid without having to grope it together blindly behind his head.

When he’d been recovering from the automail surgery, he’d complained to Winry that he’d have to cut his hair because keeping it loose would be too impractical and girly, keeping it in a tail was what his bastard father had done, and anything more complicated was beyond him. Before that, he’d never even considered letting his hair grow long, but he’d been in the middle of recovery, the hardships of his future set out before him, and his mistakes pressing him down the only path he could see leading him to saving Al. His haircut became just another thing he had no real choice in.

And unlike everything else, he’d felt it was safe to complain about it. Winry had listened to his whining and had probably heard more than he’d meant to say. She’d sat down next to him pointedly and told him to practice braiding her hair as a dexterity exercise for his hand. He’d complained and wheedled, but she’d been adamant. He must’ve accidentally pulled at her hair hundreds of times and the metal joints had snagged a veritable collection of strands, and she had yelled at him for it constantly, but she’d never said anything about stopping. Instead, she kept demanding that he do his “dexterity exercises” regularly until he had it down.

In the end, he had learned to plait with automail and she had opened a door for him he hadn’t even known to look for. He hadn’t seriously considered cutting his hair short since.

Blinking away the memory, Ed saw that his hands had automatically finished the job. Roy was strangely silent. Ed found the band he’d discarded before going to bed and tied off his work.

He was about to stand up, but then thought better of it. “Turn around,” he told Roy, and considered his options. Which would be less awkward…?

Roy turned, raising an eyebrow questioningly, and Ed decided that practicality was more important right now. He dug through the coat he’d taken off when faced with sleeping in the warm Cretan night. His prize was a small can of automail oil. He wiggled it to Roy and beckoned. “Arm, give.”

Roy obliged, seeming curious. Ed yanked him closer by the wrist and started working his way through the joints from the shoulder down. This routine wasn’t comforting and familiar like the hair had been, it just felt weird to do it like this. Roy kept looking at what he was doing. Not like he shouldn’t, but… shit. Whatever.

“The oil must stain clothes rather badly. You do this every morning?” Roy piped up. Ed glanced at his face which did nothing except weird him out some more. Because, well, it was Ed’s face.

“Yeah, it’s a bitch, but it’s better than all the shit that follows if you don’t. It’s just better to do it every day if possible.” That much, at least, Winry and Granny had beaten into his skull with their eternal reminding. “And the inside of my right sleeve is always black as all hell. I can tell you, I regretted going for white gloves more than once back in the day, and the black clothes were pretty much a necessity. At least the uniform is too thick to stain through, mostly.”

Roy hummed thoughtfully and Ed finished with the fingers. “Move all the joints a little,” Ed commanded, and watched as Roy did it. It looked like he still had some trouble with it, because the movements were jerky, but it was better than Ed had expected. Roy was adapting well, who would’ve guessed.

But the arm was fine now. Just the other one left... “All right, take your pants off.”

To Roy’s credit, his eyes only widened for a second before he did just that, looking for all the world like he couldn’t be more at ease. Ed wasn’t buying it, but for once didn’t feel like calling him out on it. Ed wasn’t very self-conscious about his body, but the addition of Roy into the equation didn’t sit well with him.

For perhaps the thousandth time, Ed thanked all the deities he didn’t believe in that Truth hadn’t seen fit to rip his leg off right at the joint. The added complications that would’ve created in his life might’ve very well been the last straw to his clinging sanity. This way, at least the underwear could stay on.

Roy’s expression of no-doubt forced serenity persisted throughout the oiling. When Ed was done, he started moving the leg without being told. Ed stowed away the can and watched as Roy investigated Ed’s pants, finding the black oil stains.

They ate poached rations and prepared in worried silence. They agreed to leave behind most of the things they’d taken in their impromptu camp since either way they wouldn’t be needing them now. Before they left, Ed took the time to teach Roy which array to use on the arm and which parts were safe to mess with. He didn’t really think Roy would need it, but it was better to give him the option at least. He listened attentively throughout, and they headed out once Ed felt secure that the bastard wouldn’t brick the thing accidentally.

Ed led the way back towards the compound, wincing every time Roy stumbled. He would’ve made fun, but Roy had been fine earlier, and Ed knew very well what was different this time. He seethed in silence instead, cursing himself and Creta and the Truth for good measure.

They slowed down to keep quiet as they approached their destination. It was important for staying undetected, but Ed couldn’t help but feel their time ticking down. If they were in the shittier scenario… He’d really prefer it if they could hurry.

Eventually reaching a vantage point at the treeline, Ed got a good look at their enemies. There were maybe twenty people, moving around the grounds with purpose and looking busy. They wore uniforms and were armed, and they’d arrived in two small personnel transport trucks. Leashed by the cars were two dogs.

Ed glanced at Roy. His eyes were scanning over the compound, expression like ice. He turned sharp and dangerous when he was reading a situation, finding the correct route, and determining the odds. It always made Ed’s stomach churn with anticipation.

“We need to surprise them before they get any more organized or get around to letting those dogs after us. We’ll move out together – we don’t have room to manoeuvre into a proper flank, so we’ll watch each other’s backs instead. You’ll rush them while I’ll hang back and cover us.” Roy gave the orders with practiced ease, and Ed knew by now to listen. He’d never be a mindless pawn, but there was a difference between blind obedience and playing to someone else’s strengths for once.

They shared a long look – there were some things Mustang hadn’t said aloud but were included in his orders all the same. _Stay close,_ though nothing short of being bodily restrained would get him to leave the bastard unprotected anyway. _Draw their attention,_ which was standard protocol for Ed when he was working with Roy. And at all other times, too, for that matter. _Be careful,_ since Ed would absolutely bitch about it if Roy said it out loud.

_Avoid killing._ That one was for them both. They could turn this battle into a carnage should they choose to do so, but the blood would only deepen the stains on their hands and souls and seep through their minds at night.

Ed took a deep breath and gave Roy a grim nod. He turned to the compound again. While trying to find an opening to get as close as possible without being spotted, Ed thought about his options. He still had all his combat skills, but not the body trained for them. He wouldn’t be as fast as he was used to. Good form counted for a lot and Mustang’s body wasn’t a waste of skin or anything, but it wasn’t great either. Then there was the broken arm to consider, too. His alchemy would be his most powerful and trustworthy weapon.

An opening – everyone Ed could see looked busy. He darted out of cover and headed straight for the closest person at a sprint, hands itching to clap.

Closer. Running without automail felt incredible. Like freedom. Getting closer. He’d get spotted before he got anyone down, but until then every unnoticed step was to his benefit. _Just a bit closer…_

Ed’s target had his back turned, but someone else finally saw him. A shout broke the silence, followed by two others, but by now Ed was upon them. The man had just enough time to turn around with obvious fear and shock before Ed decked him.

Dropping to a roll, Ed could see guns taking aim. He clapped, directing the current of power through his mind and body and into the ground. Right in front of the next two men, a wall rose from the ground. It startled one of them – Ed heard a yelp and gunfire.

Ed rolled straight back to his feet and kept running. Without slowing down, he clapped again and burst through the wall in a shower of dirt. The men only had time to scream before he kicked one in the face and tackled the other. Pinning him with his good arm, Ed quickly transmuted earthen bindings around both men.

Holy fuck, Roy’s body was really unhappy with him. Yeah, no, he was gonna have to ease up. Staggering to his feet again, Ed tried to catch his breath. Through burning muscles, aching joints and throbbing arm he tried to ready himself for action. He’d tried to be careful with the broken arm, but not jostling it wasn’t really an option. The rest of the enemies had been further away so he should have a moment, but, yeah, there they were. He’d have to either dodge, create cover, or get shot in just a second now.

About to crouch down despite his protesting legs, Ed froze instead as fire bloomed in the air, removing the line of sight between him and the gunmen. Panting, he turned to look behind him. Roy was striding towards him, probably aiming for his usual suave cadence but missing the mark thanks to the limping. His gloved hand was held up and his eyes were fixed on the flames. The disconnect of seeing his own golden eyes reflecting the firelight in such a way made something unnamed twist inside Ed, but he pushed it down.

Precious seconds of relief and recovery had been offered, and Ed waited them out, watching Roy catch up. Still, the enemies wouldn’t be cowed by the fire for long – time to press the advantage. Taking off at a lighter run, Ed headed straight for the blaze. He clapped his hands in preparation and picked a loud voice bellowing at the other side. The wall of flame was approaching fast, flaring and crackling at Ed. He’d reach it in three, two…

Ed felt the thrill that someone saner might identify as fear. But he didn’t break his stride. Stifling hot air met him, but the flames didn’t touch him. Instead, they curled around him in a loose embrace, flowing around his body, cradling him.

But only for a moment before he was through. Ed ducked down to skim the dirt with his fingers, and the ground responded to his will.

From there, everything was simple. His mind became clear and focused only on the essentials. Positions, threats, movement. The luring rush of alchemy and the delicious burn of exertion. He was hindered by the broken arm, but it was nothing he couldn’t deal with. Faceless people tried to oppose him and failed. All the while, the fire raged and flowed around him. It snapped at the enemies like an animal, keeping them at bay and obstructing their vision. Ed had no fear of it. It gave him way wherever he went, never so much as licking at his heels.

Tracking time was always impossible in a fight like this. The only metric Ed had was his own tiredness, and soon it was clawing at him in earnest. Exhaustion was lurking right under the crystal clarity of his mind. Constant transmutations were costing him, and he couldn’t stay still for too long. He was trying to gauge how many enemies were still standing when vertigo yanked at him without warning. Now was not the time, now was _really_ not the time, _no no NO!_

Like hoping for shit had ever worked. In true form, his protests mattered fuck all and his and Roy’s minds bled together again.

He was angry, yet resigned and determined. He couldn’t afford to stand still and deal with being out of balance while in combat. So, he didn’t. He’d managed to hold on to the flame alchemy and keep it ablaze, and in fact it was easier now that he could see and feel exactly how close the fire was and where he could move it safely. He had to clear space around Roy’s body, because soon Roy would be in that body, exhausted and without the close-combat experience Ed had. He clapped with Roy’s body one more time to push away anyone too close, then coaxed the fire to a fierce barrier, surrounding him entirely, while trying to close the distance with Ed’s body, no longer having to watch his every step because the automail was like any other limb to him by now-

Half his world cut off and Ed was himself again, sprinting in his own body. He stumbled, recovered, and kept running. The fire was sputtering out now that Roy’s mind had lost connection to the body that had channelled the transmutation. Through the dispersing flames Ed could see Roy, down on one knee. But already he was raising his left hand again.

An inferno twisted around him, from him, and Ed’s heart trembled with relief. He turned it into vicious glee and jumped into the fray again. Now, it was almost too easy. He had his own strength again, and he wasn’t even short of breath. Fresh and eager, he danced around the Cretans, striking and dodging and striking again. The fire danced with him, almost playful in how it twisted and flared to help him.

His world became raw sensation, loud gunfire and harsh impact, the smell of blood and alchemy. The rhythm of the fight had taken Ed in its embrace again, but through it he saw a woman push through the scorching ring surrounding Roy. She took aim.

The world closed in and sharpened. Ed was already in motion, screaming in rage. Both Roy and the woman startled, giving Ed the time he needed to get close. He slashed her right arm and kicked her down, pivoting to see if anyone had followed her example.

They hadn’t. Only three Cretans were still standing, and everyone conscious was staring at Ed, even Roy. Ed was panting, automail dripping blood, eyes darting around to fix on any movement. He felt wild, body thrumming with tension. Apparently, he also looked wild. Three guns clattered to the ground. The fight was done.

Ed tried to calm down, but all the frightened staring wasn’t helping. He knew he was a scary opponent to face, but they didn’t have to look so fucking horrified. He was the Fullmetal goddamn Alchemist, and they shouldn’t have messed with him and his if they didn’t want their shit kicked in.

A gloved hand settled on his shoulder. Turning his head, Ed saw Roy give him a thankful smile. Joyful pride welled up in response. Damn right, he’d saved Mustang’s ass, and that bastard had better fucking know it.

“You filthy little _guard dog,_ protecting that monster! _The People’s Alchemist,_ everyone!” The woman Ed had just taken down spat with venom in Cretan. The voice was a familiar one – she was the one on the radio earlier. Now that he looked closely, she was also dressed differently. She clutched her bleeding arm and sneered at Ed and Roy in turn.

Ed expected a red haze to fill his head in response to that guard dog comment, but for some reason it wasn’t appearing. Strange. He’d let go of most of the hang-ups he’d had about being a state alchemist but being called the military’s dog usually got him fired up. In this case he wouldn’t even need to hold back on the payback, so why…

She hadn’t called him the military’s dog, had she? She’d called him Mustang’s dog. Did he truly not mind the leash when the bastard held it? He hadn’t felt properly conflicted about his job in a long while, sure, but…

Well. Ed supposed he could be doing worse than this – protecting that stupid man and his arrogant dream.

Surprisingly, it looked like Roy took enough offence for them both and reacted by glaring at the woman with cold scorn. “Restrain her, Fullmetal. We’ll have some questions for her when we’re done clearing up.” Roy’s eyes never left her face as he gave the command. Ed felt strangely pleased as he alchemised the woman immobile and went to check on everyone they’d downed.

Most were unconscious but a few were still awake, only dazed or incapacitated. Ed was checking one woman’s pulse when he realized he had ignored the ones that had surrendered, leaving them standing around which, surrender or not, was a bad idea. How had he just walked past them without giving them a second thought?

No matter – apparently Roy had taken care of them. Their hands were now tied, and Roy appeared to be speaking to one of them. Had Ed simply assumed subconsciously that Roy would handle them?

He let the mystery be and kept working. There were a lot of people to work through, but not as many as they had seemed just a while ago. Ed was already very familiar with the drawbacks of aiming for temporary incapacitation only – your opponents could get back up, or pick up their weapons, or break their restraints. It was a fucking bother and a half, but the thought of going for killing blows because of some petty little inconvenience was disgusting.

Time passed, making Ed more and more nervous with every minute. Their undefined time limit hung over his head like a sharpened blade. Eventually Roy turned up and started helping him and the two of them finished checking the last of the Cretans soon after. Only the dogs were left, still leashed in place as no-one had seen fit to release them, and though they’d barked during the fight they had quieted down by now. Ed and Roy agreed to leave them be.

Lastly, they looked through the trucks. One of them had the keys inside, which meant that they only needed a direction now. There were tracks that would lead them somewhere, at least, but a map would really be preferable. A quick look through the trucks revealed no such thing, and it seemed unlikely that they’d find one laying around now if they hadn’t earlier. Ed said as much, but Roy only hummed vaguely in response. He was looking in the direction they’d left the Cretans in. Ed walked into his line of vision and cocked his head questioningly.

In a few seconds, Roy blinked a couple of times and focused on Ed. His face had taken that closed-off cast he hid behind when he thought emotions would get in the way. He raised an eyebrow at Ed before explaining his musings. “I think I recognize that woman from the info we have about this area’s politically noteworthy people. She’s Calliope Mavrou, a distinguished commander who takes orders directly from Governor Vasilios. She wasn’t present when we met him yesterday, but I’ve seen a picture of her. She might be working of her own volition, but it’s also possible the governor is behind this.”

Ed ground his teeth and breathed a “ _fuck”_ under his breath. He glanced at her direction himself, trying to think. It was bad enough if she was as high as this went, but the governor? That could be a problem. But maybe…

“If that’s true, he’s gone to some trouble to make sure we don’t connect this to him. They don’t know we recognize Mavrou by sight, her men weren’t obvious military based on their equipment, and her name wasn’t written down in any of the documents here. Plus, Vasilios at least pretended to be civil when we met. If we don’t reveal we suspect him, d’ya think he might just cut his losses and hope he got away with his little attempt?” God, it’d be shitty to act all nice to him if that was the case, but he’d take it over a full-on assault. Grudgingly.

Roy hummed again and said, “He very well might, and we wouldn’t want to make false accusations in case this has been arranged behind his back. Feigning ignorance seems most beneficial either way. In the long run knowledge like this could even prove useful. But right now…” Roy’s eyes shifted away again. “We need to interrogate her and her soldiers. We still don’t have a solid destination, for one thing.”

Ed side-eyed Roy for his shiftiness, but decided it was just him being weird about “interrogation”. Ed honestly didn’t think it was a big deal in a case like this. If you got someone scared, you pretty much had it in the bag, and the soldiers had sure as shit seemed scared earlier. Besides, Ed wasn’t feeling all that averse to dishing some hurt to them right about now anyway.

“I bet you she’ll spit on you at most, she seems the type. We’ll end up taking one of her guys instead, and they’ll crack the second they’re out of her sight.” That got a flash of a smile out of Roy, but nothing else. Ed guessed he was getting some wallowing done before he had to pull the mask up again. It was like the bastard had a quota or something.

Nothing had changed while they’d been gone. Mavrou could’ve given some orders, but none of the shitheads seemed any less scared. Ed fell into step slightly behind Roy, taking on the familiar role of muscle and bodyguard. He crossed his arms and glared holes into anyone he caught looking at him. It was kinda fun.

They slowed to a stop in front of Mavrou. She had dark hair and an angled face, and she seemed maybe a bit older than Roy. She was mostly interested in glaring at Roy like she’d found him on the bottom of her shoe, but also shot a couple venomous looks at Ed. Roy was probably projecting an iciness of glacial proportions, but Ed was too busy looking artfully bored, yet threatening to check.

The silence simmered for a while before Roy turned away and gestured for Ed to follow. Ed knew the drill and crouched down to change the woman’s restraints from full-body to arms only. He then yanked her up – earning something like a growl, wow – and dragged her along.

Roy picked a spot out of hearing range from their captives. He looked on with a mask of cold indifference as Ed dropped Mavrou on her knees in front of him. She glared at him, hateful and disgusted, and spat an insult in Cretan. Unconcerned, Roy refrained from reacting and let her stew for a while, looking for all the world like he was reading everything about her straight from her face. Ed took a position on his right and slightly behind, settling in for the entertainment with crossed arms.

In the past, Ed had had the pleasure of seeing Roy pressure and manipulate people mostly in the context of diplomatic meetings and negotiations. He almost made it into an artform – the smug, yet somehow likeable confidence layered with the true underlying threat. This was something new, however. There was no need for diplomacy here, and Ed couldn’t deny being curious about Mustang’s take on this kind of verbal combat.

For a while, there was silence as Roy looked down at Mavrou along his nose with a blank expression. She didn’t seem particularly affected by it if you didn’t count getting progressively more pissed off. Her face was twisting, while Roy’s remained glacial. Ed had a feeling Mavrou was keeping quiet mostly out of spite.

“Who are you exactly, who do you represent and why have you attacked us?” Mustang asked quietly in Cretan. His voice was low and soft, but there was a dangerous undercurrent to it. Ed felt a shiver of excitement go down his spine.

The woman smiled, all teeth, and hissed her answer at Mustang. “I am a loyal Cretan working for the good of my country and the good of all decent people. I want to rid this world of your monstrosity, _hellfire,_ preferably with my own hands, and had I succeeded in using your blood-bought position in the process for the benefit of my country it would have made your just reward that much sweeter to me.”

Now it was Ed’s turn to show his teeth. The sheer arrogance of her, thinking herself secure in her morality, not even entertaining the thought that a foreigner might not have all the information to make calls like that about Amestris’ shitty dealings. Distantly, Ed realized he was shaking, itching to shut her up because _who the fuck was she to talk about this shit, thinking she was so much fuckin’ better than Roy, calling him a monster when she had no fucking idea-_

He’d taken a step forward without realizing, and his anger was just about to spill out of him when he saw Roy shaking his head minutely from the corner of his eye. Something about it – how small the gesture was, how Roy trusted him to take the tiny cue even in his anger, how he wasn’t snapping a command even when Ed had been about to step out of line in a situation where it actually did kind of matter… it made his flaring temper cool to a controlled edge again.

Backing up, Ed tried to ignore the way Mavrou was clearly enjoying this. She sneered at him with apparent glee. “Did the little guard dog get offended on its master’s behalf? I thought the Fullmetal Alchemist was a champion to the common people, but I should’ve known better. You’re just another killer for your country, in service to the worst killer of them all. Did he plan your entire career, spread propaganda, create your image-“

“Your ignorant and petty insults will earn you nothing but an increasingly precarious position. If you won’t give up your employer, there’ll be no reason to spare you. Now try again. What purpose do you serve?” Roy stepped closer to her with his interruption. His eyes were narrowed, and Ed couldn’t quite tell how real his irritation was.

Mavrou’s indifference, feigned or not, was clear enough. “I have nothing to say to you, _hellfire._ My purpose is my own.”

Roy lifted his chin with masterful confidence and arrogance. “I’m sure. Do tell me if you change your mind.” He snapped and a red bloom kissed the woman’s neck. It lasted for only a moment but left behind a bright burn and an expression of fear and rage on her face.

Roy looked at the mark for a moment before speaking. “I truly do not wish to do this, but we need every advantage we can get to escape this trap you’ve laid. Your alchemist gave us much, but you know more than he did, don’t you?”

Something like uncertainty appeared on Mavrou’s face before another burn on her hand turned it to pain again. “All we really need is the direction we’ll find our allies in, I’m sure we’ll piece together everything else-“

Roy’s taunt stuttered to a pause, and Ed knew exactly why. _No, fuck, not again!_ The interval had been shorter again, they were so fucked, this shit couldn’t be happening, fucking _fuck!_

But it was, and he needed to hide it from her. Even as he kept talking, spinning some empty threat, he thought about the situation feverishly. How he’d planned to proceed, how this changed things, what he’d be willing and able to do now that the situation changed, where to push and dig, when to leave it as a lost cause and how important it was to maintain the illusions above all else-

They’d at least reached a natural pause in Roy’s monologue when Ed was suddenly alone in Roy’s body, staring at Mavrou and scrambling for the scraps of information Roy had hastily shoved at him. This was the point he was supposed to give her another little encouraging burn, right? Right.

Ed snapped, focusing desperately on controlling the alchemy. He really shouldn’t be trying something this precise with this little practice. It was cruel, they were playing with human life.

For a split second, Ed panicked as he felt someone else exert control over the molecules he was trying to guide. He almost threw his full power behind the alchemy to fight for the control before he realized what was going on. He’d made the spark, but Roy had an arrayed glove on his hand, same as Ed. He could easily guide the fire while making it appear like Ed was doing all the work. That was… ingenious, and a big fucking relief.

Ed tried to control his expression as a new burn was painted on Mavrou’s skin. She visibly flinched from the fire, but Ed couldn’t manage much sympathy for her. She was human, yes, but she was also a stone-cold bitch that tried to kill them and thought they were less than dirt, basing that opinion on hearsay, blind nationalism and false superiority.

Wait, he was supposed to be saying something now, wasn’t he? Yeah, he was meant to be grilling Mavrou for information and generally being Roy.

“Truthfully, you don’t even need to betray your people, no. We’ll piece together the whole thing eventually. And we already know my men will have a search operation set up. They might even be close already. We’ll find them, inevitably. If you’ll simply make it a bit easier for us, you’ll in turn get out of this a bit… easier.” There, that was the essence of what Roy had been working up to, in a suitably pompous manner no less.

But Mavrou didn’t seem to be paying full attention to his words. She was glancing between the two of them, eyes narrowed. Oh, fuck, had they given it away somehow? Thinking quickly, Ed snapped and trusted Mustang to figure out what he was going for. True enough, the fire flashed bright and sudden right in front of her face, startling her.

“It’s rude to ignore someone when they’re speaking.” Ed tried to force his voice to a flat coldness. Blowing this whole thing out of the water with his temper would really crown this day as his shining moment.

The woman frowned before speaking, eyes flashing with measured intent. “Why isn’t your little guard dog doing the interrogating so you can keep your hands clean? He’s a mindless pet, that’s what they’re for. I’m sure you usually send him along to do all sorts of dirty work for you, why not-“

“You can shut the fuck up or I can make you, how’s that? I don’t need to listen to this shit, and if this bastard has something to say about it or if either of you think I’ll give a damn about protocol when scum like you is saying shit like this to my fucking face you can both just fucking deal with it.” Ed glanced back and was surprised to see that Roy looked pissed. His eyes were narrowed, and he was rotating the automail wrist menacingly. Maybe he’d thought that Ed would blow up if he didn’t draw attention, though he wouldn’t have – the insult had been impersonal guesswork, easy to scoff at. There was genuine anger in Roy’s eyes and the set of his jaw, simple enough to recognize even from a face that wasn’t Roy’s.

Ed’s thoughts were interrupted when Mavrou started laughing. He could only stare with a sinking feeling as it turned from little giggles to true, free laughter. She calmed down soon enough and looked at them with a grin. Ed had no option but to forge on. “If you’re done now, I-“

“That idiot wasn’t worthless after all, was he? You were in Hector’s array, and it worked. It did something to you.” She laughed again, seeming very amused. “You changed places just now. You fools tried to hide it but there were little things in your expressions, your bearings… and I had a feeling you would both react strongest to an insult placed on the other instead of yourself. You… are compromised. You are vulnerable. And oh, I dearly hope your minds will turn to mush as the faulty alchemy has its way with you. It’d serve you right, and maybe then all this wouldn’t have been such a fucking waste!”

Ed stared at her as she laughed at them, then turned to see Roy wearing a look of frustration that mirrored his own feelings well. This fucking woman had figured them out twice now. Ed couldn’t help being a bit impressed by her, but mostly he was just pissed. Because, seriously?

He also took note that she wasn’t wrong about the insult thing. He knew why he got pissed when people talked shit about Mustang, but why did the same hold true the other way around? Roy wasn’t a dick, but he usually had iron-clad control when things got serious.

The man in question said something under his breath – it was probably a swear – and stepped forward, dropping the act. “Fine. I assume you will not part with any other information that would benefit us. In that case we are done.” There was cold fury and finality in Roy’s voice, and as he raised his hand, prepared to snap, Ed felt his insides go cold. On instinct, he darted forward and grabbed Roy’s hand to stop him. He looked into Roy’s eyes, trying to read him, and got in return a stony look that slowly softened. He lowered his hand and without shifting his gaze from Ed he said, “We’ll have a quiet word out of your earshot first, I think.”

Roy led them to a spot where they could still keep an eye on Mavrou, but a quiet conversation wouldn’t carry over the distance. They stood there for a moment, face to face, while Mustang’s pained expression made Ed feel more and more defensive. He crossed his arms – ow – and immediately felt childish for doing so, but fuck if he’d let that show. He doubled down instead, as he so often did, and took the rare opportunity to look at someone down his nose.

Roy sighed. “You do know that if we let her live, she’ll take it as an invitation to come after us again? She’ll take everything she’s learnt about us and turn it against us if she can. We can’t prevent her from doing so if we leave her alive, and she _will_ be more dangerous next time.”

Ed’s eyes narrowed. “Yeah, right, ‘cos you need another charred corpse on your conscience like you need a kick in the nuts. Or maybe you could give her a kinder death, slit her throat with my automail. That’d be nice, wouldn’t it? I could later think fondly of the time you used my body to kill a person in cold blood when I clean their dried blood from all the little grooves in the metal.”

Roy’s face turned progressively more ashen as Ed spoke and he turned away by the end of the tirade. Ed waited to see if he’d say something. He didn’t, and the twisting in Ed’s guts made him speak up again. “One angry human with a bit of influence in a foreign country is nothing to you, to either of us. If she makes problems then we’ll deal with them, and in the meanwhile you’ll have one death fewer to haunt you at night.”

Roy still kept his eyes averted. “She was already a fanatic and now we’ve made it personal.” Finally, he met Ed’s eyes again, and though they were the wrong shape, the wrong colour, the pain in them was a very familiar one. Sometimes, when Roy was tired, he let Ed see it. “We’ll be looking behind our backs for the rest of our lives.”

“Like your goals aren’t going to be making resentful enemies left and right. Y’think you’ll sleep easy and have a lot of confidence in your safety as the fuhrer?”

The corners of Roy’s mouth twitched upwards. “No. No, I suppose you’re right. We’ve been through too much to die to the likes of her. What do I have to fear? After all, I’ve got you looking after my back, hm?” His tone was teasing, but his eyes were still shadowed and there was an honest plea in the question. Roy didn’t want to kill Mavrou any more than Ed did, but he thought it was necessary, that it was his duty. It was the smart play, pre-emptive protection from a threat that would come for them eventually. If only the cost wasn’t so high.

And Ed might’ve been imagining it, but… he thought he saw a softness in those eyes. His heart skipped a beat at the sight of it, but even if it was real this wasn’t the time or the place for it.

“Damn right you do. You think I’m no match for her? Let her try, it’ll keep us on our toes.”

A mixture of resignation, exhaustion, and relief went through Roy’s face. He sighed and nodded. “We’ll finish up with her and get our information from one of her underlings. It’s not like she can become that much angrier at us.”

Ed knew what he meant. He was relieved and gave a nod along with a tight-lipped smile. They headed back to Mavrou. Roy took up his blank mask again in front of her. She eyed them both with vicious amusement. “Done schooling your dog, _Hellfire?_ I-“

“Be quiet. And stay still.” Roy’s interruption was clipped. It froze the woman into compliance at least for a moment, during which Roy studied her face carefully and then snapped.

Mavrou flinched back and cried out in pain and surprise. The fire licked her face, painting her left cheek and temple with gold and red before fading away again. She hunched over and breathed harshly while Ed watched her and Roy in turn. The new burn would scar, but not badly. Right now, it looked red and raw. Roy’s expression hadn’t changed from the carefully crafted façade.

“Gag her. Securely.”

Ed moved to do so. He crouched next to her and felt her furious eyes on him as he clapped and moulded a bit of stone to cover her mouth. He avoided the burn. There was no reason to cause her more pain – they’d had their pound of flesh and all they needed.

Unable to speak and visibly injured, Mavrou looked beaten despite her defiant gaze. Ed pulled her to stand. Roy nodded, then came to grab her shoulder. “We’ll keep up the act in front of the others. Pick one that looks suitably scared. I’m sure you know the type.”

“Sure thing.” On the way back, Ed tried to walk and act like Roy. He felt stupid doing it but had at least some confidence that it was a passable imitation. If it wasn’t then that was too bad. Either way, he was sure he’d hear about it later as Roy picked his act apart.

Bringing Mavrou back in this state had the exact effect they’d been after. The conscious soldiers balked when Roy threw her to the ground. They tried to hide their shock and fear with varying levels of success, but none of them were unaffected. They were at the very least familiar with her as a commander and respected her strength, and as such were shaken to see her brought low.

Ed watched as Roy brought his hands together and restrained Mavrou. The transmutation was shaky and the results rough, but hopefully no-one else here was experienced enough to tell that – or dismissed Ed as an amateur with an overblown reputation. He never would’ve believed he’d be someday hoping for that.

Ed settled in to pick his prey. There was one woman who seemed to be almost shaking apart with fear, but upon closer examination it looked to be an act. She glanced at Ed in between teary exhalations with too much intent. She probably had a hidden weapon or some other plan. Four others were too collected. Of the remaining ones Ed decided on a man who was trying, and failing, to hide his nerves behind a cover of arrogant indifference. He had some blood on his face, but he looked coherent. Perfect.

“That one,” Ed said and gestured at the man idly. His eyes visibly widened. Ed resisted the temptation to grin.

Roy stomped to the man – Ed would give him the benefit of the doubt that he did so because of the automail, not because he thought Ed would – and pulled him up. He flinched from the hold on his shoulder. This would be almost too easy.

Based on the way the man kept glancing back, he was more afraid of Ed than he was of Roy. Or who he thought was Ed. Whatever. It was gratifying all the same.

Roy appeared to notice his captive’s nerves too. When they reached the spot they’d used with Mavrou, Roy turned to Ed and asked him, “Permission to get our info from him by any means necessary, sir?”

The crafty bastard wanted to use Ed’s body and reputation to scare the shit out of this guy. At least he was asking for permission in a roundabout way. Ed couldn’t deny being curious about what exactly he meant to do. No harm in it, right?

“Granted, Fullmetal.” Ed made sure to keep eye contact with the captive. He’d find no hint of sympathy in Ed.

Roy made the automail’s wrist give a menacing clack – that was a trick Ed sometimes used, Roy must’ve picked it up by observation. He took two slow steps until he towered over the poor man, and his grin widened until he looked completely unhinged. Ed loved it.

“Obeying this bastard day in, day out leaves me with so much pent up rage that I just start _itching_ to let some of it go in a way that won’t destroy my ever-so important reputation as the _good_ state alchemist. I don’t get to let loose that often.” Roy rolled his shoulders back and gave a smile that might’ve been happy if it wasn’t so terrifying. “Sucks to be you, huh? I think I’ll start with crushing your fingers one by one.”

The man broke out into terrified pleading as soon as Roy reached out meaningfully with the automail. “No no nonono wait! Wait I’ll talk, I’ll talk, you don’t need to- just ask me something, I’ll tell you!”

Ed couldn’t help but be impressed. Roy had played the situation beautifully. He had leveraged the ferocity Ed had shown earlier in the fight and the reputation that had surely reached even Cretan ears with a confidence that convinced and was clearly effective. Ed was sure he would’ve gotten the same results, but probably not as efficiently. Maybe outsider perspective had given Roy better knowledge about the gestures and expressions that worked best.

Either way, Ed had to acknowledge that he thought it was damn sexy. He was not going to contemplate on what that said about him because in this context there was no way any of it was good.

Since the captive was now sufficiently cowed, Ed stepped up in Roy’s place and got on with the questions. In all honesty his mind wandered a bit as the frightened man rambled directions and scraps of useful info interspersed with nervous stammering. He could tell them where they should go to reach the search efforts headed by Havoc and Breda but had nothing new to tell them about his employer and their plan. Ed hadn’t expected him to know much, but it was still annoying. Most likely everyone here except for Mavrou was a pawn, and they didn’t have time to properly pressure her into talking.

Well, not like they didn’t have practice with digging shit up. There were a few other bridges they had to cross before that was a real problem.

When it looked like they’d gotten everything out of the scared Cretan they were going to Ed put a gag on him and they left for the car. It would at least leave the other ones guessing for a while. Ed and Roy had a destination, dubious guidance for getting there, and a stolen truck. And, of course, the ever-pressing time limit.

Ed was already reaching for the driver’s door when the broken arm reminded him of its existence. Roy pushed past him with raised eyebrows and Ed couldn’t help but seethe at the world in general. Well, they’d probably switch again soon enough anyway…

He climbed in the passenger seat and Roy started the car. It took him a few tries as he fumbled with the keys. Ed wondered if something was wrong with him before he remembered that, right, Roy had had automail for… how many hours in total now? Too few to have any fine motor control, was the point.

Ed settled in for a long drive, and for a while they drove in silence. He stared at the passing trees without seeing them. Ed tried to ignore the gnawing fear this predicament had instilled in him – of being completely exposed and subsequently judged unworthy by Roy. He suspected it was, if not unfounded, then at least unnecessary. Anyone would have doubts like that, and even if he had unusually numerous horrible fuckups, he’d also always had his reasons. Roy would surprise him and find a way to look at him mostly the same way he always had. Probably.

There was also another thing he’d avoided thinking about, but the stillness made it surface in his mind. He estimated that they still had a while before the next switch, meaning he could maybe distract himself with other things and manage to not think about it when the time swung around again. He’d had a lot of practice with not thinking about it. He could hide it, and in their brief connection Mustang wouldn’t even notice.

Notice the way Ed loved Roy, that is.

He was long used to loving Roy and almost as used to distracting himself from thinking about it. He could do it. He knew he could. It would probably go to shit anyway even if he did, because they still didn’t know how to reverse the transmutation. At the end of this strange path was an unknown fate waiting for them. They didn’t know what would happen, but Ed had a sinking feeling it involved the connected, in-between state that heralded each switch. If that was the case and they became stuck like that for any length of time, there was no goddamn way either of them could claim a single secret as theirs by the end of it.

The thought made despair twist in his guts. Not because he wouldn’t be able to hold any part of himself private anymore. He didn’t like the idea but was resigned to it. It was a familiar pattern – Ed fucks up, the world kicks him a few times and takes something from him, he learns the lesson too late and carries on, rinse and repeat. No, it was because he didn’t want Roy to find out how Ed felt about him by getting it shoved into his face via shared brain-space. What would he think, seeing that Ed had hidden such a thing from him until it became impossible to do so? He didn’t want that. He wanted to tell Roy of his own volition, to have a conversation about it while they still could.

Ed hadn’t realised he had been building his resolve until it suddenly filled him, burning his throat. He had to tell him. The impulse was suddenly almost too great to resist. He had to get the words out there, had to see an honest reaction from Roy. At the same time, he was terrified.

Ed knew only one way of dealing with fear: facing it head on. Even so, though he’d already decided he would, forcing himself to speak took a bit of doing. He swallowed a few false starts, looked at Roy, looked out the window, doubted himself and wavered…

“Mustang.”

Roy hummed in response, not lifting his eyes from the road. Ed wanted to meet his eyes while he said it, however strange it would feel when they were really _his_ eyes.

“…Roy.”

That got his attention. Ed never called him Roy. He even looked worried. “What is it?”

Ed waited until he looked away from the road again and at him before forcing the words out of his mouth. Or maybe he was letting them go at long last. “I love you.”

Roy froze. He stared at Ed until the car drifted to the side of the road and he had to correct it. He then returned to staring at Ed, taking occasional glances at the road. His eyes were wide and searching, and he looked comically confused. Ed suddenly felt light-headed and he had to hold back laughter. He’d never seen Roy this wrong-footed, and somehow it was a relief.

But the feeling trickled away when Roy continued to say nothing. “I mean it,” Ed said, preparing to dig in his heels.

Roy swallowed, then whispered, “But why?”

Ed assumed he meant _why tell me now_ instead of some other possible meaning because this one was easy to answer and didn’t hurt. “Yeah, I know, not the best time for this, but I figured all our secrets are existing on borrowed time now anyway, and this wasn’t something I wanted you to pick up from my mind directly. I wanted to be the one to say it, aloud. Just… do with it what you will I guess, but it’s been true for a while now. Try not to be a bastard about it.”

Ed waited for a response, but none was forthcoming. Roy looked lost. Ed made himself turn away and stare blindly at the passing forest. He could feel something squeeze in his chest but tried to ignore it. What had he even expected? This was probably as good of an outcome as any he could hope for – Roy would never mention this again and they would return to the established status quo. Whatever affection Ed had seen in Roy, or imagined he’d seen, it was nothing compared to the man’s conviction to his cause. He wouldn’t compromise it for anything and dangling the possibility in their faces was cruel on them both. He’d bury it all and hope their current predicament wouldn’t become too painful…

As if summoned, the alchemy activated again and Ed had only time for a horrible, sinking feeling before _he felt like his heart was soaring and breaking at the same time – Ed was so brave and so incredible, and Ed felt horrible now because Roy was not brave, because Roy was spinning in freefall – he couldn’t believe Ed loved him, and he couldn’t find the words to respond, his usual smoothness gone like it never was, and why couldn’t he just say it. Say that of course, of course he’d fallen for Ed long ago-_

Getting dumped into his own body, alone again, had Ed gasping for breath. For the first time the separation filled him with pain. Desire for that incredible certainty, that togetherness coursed through him. His head snapped to the side to stare at Roy, but in under a second it occurred to him that he was now driving the car. Shifting his attention hurriedly to the road, Ed corrected their course before they could crash into the treeline.

Once Ed felt it was safe to lift his attention from the road, he turned to Roy again. Roy, uncharacteristically, was quiet and still. He was staring at Ed. Gone was the flawless poker face, the illusion of an untouchable mastermind. In its place was honest and raw emotion – awe, longing, pain. Love.

Ed pulled over, all the while giving Roy sidelong glances. Once the car was still, he fixed his eyes solidly on Roy’s again. He knew he was staring too intensely, but he couldn’t help himself. He had to be sure. Yes, he’d felt the emotions like they were his own for a moment, but Roy was a master deceiver. More than that, he was struggling to make himself believe that it could even be true. Who knew how this shitty connection worked? It’d felt real enough in the moment, but what if it was tricking him somehow, mixing up his own emotions into something else?

But Roy seemed, for once, honest. He’d been surprised by their swift stop, but his expression was now one of calm fondness. It was almost… tender.

Ed had grabbed Roy by his shirt and pulled him close before he really knew what he was doing. He wanted – so much, but first he needed to see proof of it for himself, with his own eyes. Roy needed to close that final gap. Right now, Ed wanted nothing as much as he wanted to touch Roy, but he needed Roy to be the one to do it. He stared into those dark eyes instead and burned inside, trying to tell him without words that if Roy wanted to make Ed believe his feelings, he had to show them to him.

With only a moment’s hesitation, Roy leaned in and kissed him. He started out nervous, but as soon as Ed responded to him, enthusiastically, he grew bold.

They enjoyed the moment in silence. Ed could feel Roy’s smile, and knew Roy could feel his. The kissing turned to leaning their foreheads together, Roy’s hand lost in Ed’s hair, and then back to kissing. For a while they let their worry and stress disappear into joy and desire.

But not for long. Breathless, Ed pulled away. He couldn’t help but admire Roy’s expression while they both caught their breaths. It made something curl pleasantly inside him.

Almost dizzy and still shedding the last of his disbelief, Ed tried to blink away the fog in his head. He had his confirmation now. It had been… very, very nice, but they needed to focus. There were pressing matters, like their impending doom.

Ed tore his gaze away from Roy and to the road ahead, starting the car. “Alright, good. That’s good,” he told the steering wheel. “We can work out the rest of it once we’re safe again.”

Roy chuckled lowly, making Ed bite his lip. “Yes, you’re right, we still need our heads in the game. But we _will_ work it out. I promise.” His words held the same kind of conviction they had when he talked about his ultimate goals and deepest ideals. Things he was going to achieve or die trying. It was intense. Ed found he liked it.

The determined expression slowly slipped from Roy’s face and something like self-deprecation took its place. “You know, I made that deal with you earlier mainly because I was afraid that you’d see exactly how deep I’ve fallen. I thought you’d hate me.” He broke into a crooked smile. “I guess I’m an idiot sometimes.”

Ed gave him a disbelieving look. “I thought you were worried about Ishval and stuff. Really?”

Roy looked down. “Well, that too.”

Ed frowned. “Don’t be. Worried, I mean. I get it.”

He didn’t know what else to say, but Roy’s tired smile told him he understood.

They drove on in silence until eventually the alchemy gripped them again. Afterwards Ed could tell that it had startled Roy out of a sleepy doze, but in the moment Ed’s focus had been on the reinforced loop of joyful affection that resonated through them during it. It was relief and happiness from them both, all mixed up and reinforced. It felt like coming home.

The car swerved again alarmingly before Roy managed to reorient himself and gain control of the vehicle. Ed barely noticed. He was aching at the feeling of fulfilment, given and ripped away again in a moment. He would’ve wallowed in it if something hadn’t distracted him – namely, the arousal in Roy’s body. It was undeniably awkward, but more than that it was gratifying. A weird sort of pride filled Ed at the thought that their kiss had affected Roy like this. A smile crept on his face. A glance told him that Roy was wide-eyed and blushing slightly. The smile turned into a grin.

Hours passed, punctuated by the ever-accelerating rate with which the alchemy fucked with them. It got to the point where they both had to constantly concentrate on the driving, regardless of which one was currently in Ed’s body. Otherwise they risked swerving towards the treeline again when the change surprised them. Ed kept himself alert by theorizing about the fucking array that got them here. He had to give it up around the third potential counter-array – he realized he’d been lost in the alchemy only when he was suddenly driving without warning. Not being able to even get use of the time he felt was wasting felt frustrating, but he had to admit he hadn’t been doing his best work anyway. The intuitive, lightning flash connections that usually accompanied him to his trips through the wonders of alchemy weren’t making an appearance.

When Ed figured out why that was, he almost laughed. Roy simply wasn’t a genius. His brain wasn’t equipped for the pace Ed usually kept in his work with alchemy. Now that he thought about it, there were a few other things he’d sort of noticed but hadn’t had time to think about with everything going on. His temper had been slightly different in Roy’s body, his instincts altered. He hadn’t really lost any skills, but the absence of muscle memory tripped him up.

But those details had barely even been interesting to Ed. Instead, he’d taken the few precious moments of stillness he’d had in Roy’s body to simply twist his hands together, drinking in the double feedback, feeling tendons shift under sensitive fingertips, marvelling and aching. Even the texture of the scars on both palms had been a wonder to him. Yet he couldn’t shake the melancholy of the experience, and something about the symmetry left him unbalanced, ironically. Roy’s body was more whole than Ed’s, but it didn’t belong to him and that was impossible to forget when he was left with only his thoughts and the innumerable unfamiliar details encasing him.

He willed himself to remember the feeling all the same.

Later, as Ed was staring through the windshield and wiggling Roy’s toes absently, Roy broke the silence.

“How did you get large, matching scars on both your back and abdomen?”

When Ed turned to look at him, he saw Roy wearing a pinched look directed at the road ahead. He’d probably shifted in a way that pulled at the scarring. Ed knew very well how that felt. He didn’t particularly feel like talking about the injury but saw no good reason to avoid it. A bit tough to pretend it hadn’t been a big deal when Roy was sitting in some pretty concrete evidence to the contrary.

“My fight with Kimblee in the north ended with me getting impaled by a steel beam.”

Ed heard Roy inhale sharply but carefully didn’t look to see his expression. Whatever it was, he’d rather not know.

“How did you survive?”

The question was almost a whisper. Ed hadn’t even known his voice could sound so brittle. He tried to become absorbed in the creases in Roy’s palms.

“I used my own life energy like it was a philosopher’s stone. Shaved probably a few years off, but it was that or lose it all. The chimeras got help for me afterwards.” The casual and blunt delivery Ed was going for didn’t seem to be helping as much as he’d hoped. Roy was quiet for a while and Ed kept determinedly looking everywhere but at him.

“Edward. You need to swear to me, right now, that you’ll only use that as an absolute last resort and _only on yourself._ Don’t… do _not_ save anyone else with the cost of your life. Swear it. Please.” There was a tremble in Roy’s voice that finally made Ed look at him. He was looking back, eyes fierce.

Ed thought about swearing like Roy asked. Maybe he would never be faced with the choice and Roy could live comforted by that empty promise. But could he really do that? Even if Roy wouldn’t probably witness the lie first-hand in Ed soon enough, he’d broken enough promises already. He didn’t want to make that mistake again.

“You know I can’t do that.”

Ed made himself watch Roy’s sorrow and heartbreak twist over Ed’s own features. There was no surprise mixed in. Something in Ed’s chest hurt. “I’m sorry,” he offered in a futile effort to soften the blow. “I’ll try but I can’t… I can’t promise you that.”

The steering wheel creaked under the automail’s grip, but Roy’s answer was so soft it was almost lost under the engine’s rumble.

“I know.”

They kept driving, silently counting down the shortening pauses between swaps until eventually Ed got thrown into the driver’s seat after he’d only spent about a minute out of it. At that point Roy asked him to pull over. “We have to wait it out. We’re not going to reach help in time either way, and we risk crashing if we keep this up.” It felt like defeat to Ed, but he had to agree. The sun was still high, but he felt exhausted, and he knew Roy did too. They hadn’t slept properly last night, and the mental strain was worse than the physical one. Funnily enough, constantly flinging between two bodies had frayed their mental strength. Who could’ve guessed?

Their time was about to be up, but whatever that would end up meaning was still up in the air. Roy seemed like he’d be content sitting it out in the car, but Ed wasn’t having it. If he was going to lose his mind or die or something, he wanted to make the occasion at least a little special. He opened the door and got out.

Roy asked something but Ed wasn’t listening. He walked towards the treeline, picking a patch of grass that would fit them. He laid down on his back. He was glad to see that Roy had followed him, no doubt confused about his intentions.

Ed kept looking at him and waiting patiently until the switch came upon them again. He revelled in the feeling, then moved once he had Roy’s body at his disposal.

Roy was looking up at him with golden eyes, no longer confused but patiently amused. Ed ignored him while he sat and then laid down, mindful of the broken arm.

Now they were laying on the grass next to each other, looking at the sky. Ed reached out his left hand and took Roy’s right, knowing he could hardly feel it but doing it anyway. These might be their final moments, at least in some capacity, and Ed wanted them both to know that they weren’t alone. They weren’t likely to forget it with the way they kept sharing headspace all the time, but it wasn’t quite the same.

A new swap, incredible and terrifying, and Ed was now looking at the sky from a slightly different spot. He felt Roy squeeze the metal hand until it registered as a difference in pressure. He probably had to use way too much force for it to be comfortable, but somehow it still felt incredibly sweet to Ed. Roy’s mushy sensibilities must’ve been rubbing off on him… the bastard.

“This is fucking nuts, you know that?”

Roy laughed.

They looked at the sky and listened to the birds, sometimes alone and sometimes together, until Roy spoke up when the times between had dwindled to something like ten seconds.

“I’m glad it’s you.”

Ed didn’t know what to say. It had been spontaneous – Ed would’ve noticed if Roy had been planning on saying that. He wanted to respond before Roy would be made to read his reaction straight from his mind, no matter how positive it was. Nothing came to him. What exactly did he even mean? Was he glad to die by Ed’s side, if that’s what ended up happening? Or –

He ran out of time. His frustration mixed with Roy’s vulnerability and from it an answer came to them. _We have a pretty good idea about what’ll happen even if we don’t want to admit it, and we’re both glad we’re in it with the other. Terrified, but glad. We’ll be fine._

Ed was crying when he was in a single body again. He didn’t know which one had caused it, and he wasn’t sure it even mattered at this point.

The pauses became shorter and shorter until they were seeing the sky as much with two pairs of eyes as they were with one. The sharing became a bad radio connection, drifting in and out of focus. Every time it drifted back, it brought with it a comfort. _I’m in this with you._ Still, a despair filled Ed. “I’m sorry, I-“ He was interrupted as their minds slipped together again.

_Let me say it, please. I know you think you don’t need to hear it, but I need to say it._

“I’m so fucking sorry, I fucked up and this-“ Again.

_I know. If you need to say it, I’ll listen. But you know I don’t blame you._

“-is all my fault. We might not be able-“

_Thank you._

“-to fix this. I’m sorry.”

Ed fell silent again. It was difficult to keep talking anyway when the mouth he was using changed every few words. Instead, he focused inwards, on the waves of forgiveness and acceptance that washed over him whenever Roy’s mind touched his own. He let go of the guilt. It wasn’t helping either of them, anyway.

Soon there were only quick flashes of absence from one point of view or other, until even those dwindled away to nothing, and-

Stillness came upon him. The vacillation had stopped, the pendulum had finally lost its momentum. He blinked, twice over, settling in his bodies.

A horrifying fear suddenly came upon him – was he alone? Had the other one been crushed, wiped away? He couldn’t bear-

But, no. When he tried to put a name to himself, he couldn’t decide on it. He’d been Ed, fierce and intelligent, and he’d been Roy, sharp and idealistic. Both names, both bodies, both histories felt like his.

This wasn’t how they had thought it’d be at all. There weren’t two minds squeezed together with too little distance between – there was one mind, seamless, containing all that was contained in two separate ones before.

The flashes of togetherness before had given them an idea of what would come, but they had been brief, tiny glimpses of… not two-as-one, as it had felt when it was squished in between periods of being a single mind alone in a single body, but one-from-two, so seamless that the only proof there was that they had ever been things apart were the memories he had of such a time. There was nothing to explain or share or talk about because there was no Ed and no Roy, no two pieces that somehow had to fit against each other. There was no conversation because there was only one mind. His, or theirs, and he knew and was everything they had been.

They had both been afraid deep down – of being seen and judged by the other, of being exposed throughout and found to be wanting in some way, broken or wrong. It seemed so foolish now. Along with memories of what they’d done came the memories of how it felt, how everything had turned out the way it had. How could he judge the choices of either when he had both the first-had experience as well as an understanding outsider perspective?

He realized he was holding his own hand. It wasn’t… bad, but it also didn’t feel like anything. It had, just a moment ago.

Suddenly, he knew he needed to reverse this. He felt fine, but he wasn’t Ed _or_ Roy. They weren’t… here anymore. He loved them both and he didn’t want this.

He… They were in love with each other.

Well.

He stood up and headed back to the car. Ed’s body would drive again, it at least had two functioning arms. He had a lot of daylight left still.

He also needed to figure out _how_ he was going to reverse this. Well… he had the memories and intuitions of two very smart people. It couldn’t be that hard. Right?


End file.
